


The Star-Crossed Lovers

by Holz9364



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Good Parent Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Not Canon Compliant, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holz9364/pseuds/Holz9364
Summary: A collection of Dramione one-shots, some of which also contain Scorpius x Rose. I'll tag all the pairings and any warnings.Rated M just in case, for language and light smut but nothing overly graphic.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Ten Years

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Zoey 101 short because I grew up on that show and I was so excited when it came out!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy is about to propose to Astoria Greengrass when Theodore Nott rushes in with life-changing news...

“Astoria. I know that this was to be an arranged marriage,” Draco said as he looked at the dark-haired woman sitting across from him in the swanky London restaurant he had brought her to.

Her large blue eyes widened, and she nodded slightly.

Draco continued, “But over the years that we have courted, I have grown very fond of you.”

Astoria smiled slightly, “The feeling is mutual, Draco.”

Draco got up and walked to the other side of the table, kneeling before her, “So Astoria Greengrass-”

“Draco!”

Draco pulled himself to his feet and spun around in surprise, “Theo?”

Theodore Nott grinned broadly at his best friend from their Hogwarts days, “Hey, you look good Draco! Man, the years have treated you well.”

Draco momentarily forgot about his soon-to-be fiancé who was looking thoroughly miffed as she glared at the two men, “You look great! It’s been years; I thought you were living in America!”

“I was,” Theo said, “I am, I mean. But it’s been ten years Draco.”

“And?” Draco asked with a frown, “Ten years since what?”

“Ten years since we buried those time capsules at Hogwarts after the war,” Theo said eagerly.

Draco’s eyes widened, “Theo...you haven’t...”

Theo grinned and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

“Is that...” Draco trailed off as he stared at the scroll.

Theo nodded, “It’s her feelings for you. Remember, Hermione; she said that she wasn’t ready to face it all yet, but that one day she would let you read it?”

Astoria shook her head, irritably, “Who the hell is Hermione?”

Theo scoffed, but ignored Astoria, “Are you going to read it or what?”

Draco sighed, “I don’t know if I should without her permission. She was adamant it get buried without me knowing how she felt...maybe it would have been better left buried.”

“Theodore, I don’t know what the hell you are playing it, but Draco was seconds away from proposing to me,” Astoria hissed.

“Well he won’t be when he reads that scroll,” Theo said a little smugly.

“You read it?” Draco asked in disbelief.

Theo smirked, “Draco, I heard you whine about Hermione Granger every day for seven years. I think I had a right to read it. Go on, _read it_.”

“No, finish proposing to me!” Astoria exclaimed.

Draco shot a guilty glance back at her and turned to Theo, “She really wouldn’t want me to read it, Theo.”

“She gave you permission to read it Draco!” Theo said, “Don’t you remember? You were sitting by the lake, and she came up and sat next to you...”

_“Hey, Malfoy.”_

_“Granger.”_

_“What did you put in your time capsule?”_

_Draco shrugged, “Nothing significant.”_

_Hermione smiled slightly, “Do you remember how you asked me earlier what I wrote in that note?”_

_Draco turned to her, “Yes.”_

_“I wrote something about you, but I won’t tell you what just yet. I think we both need time to cool off after all of this fighting...I think the world needs time to get back to normal.”_

_“When **are** you going to tell me then, Granger?”_

_“Well we aren’t supposed to open those time capsules for twenty years, but I think that’s a bit harsh. So let’s say ten.”_

_“Ten years,” Draco asked in disbelief._

_“Ten years,” Hermione confirmed, getting to her feet with a smile. She glanced behind her to the spot where Harry and Ron were waiting, and watching with narrowed eyes, “See you around Malfoy.”_

“...So she gave you permission, and you have _got_ to read it Draco!”

Draco glanced down at the parchment anxiously and undid the ribbon on the scroll. He unrolled it and read it, almost warily.

_“ **My thoughts on those I spent my Hogwarts days with:**_

_Harry; I love Harry like the brother I never had. All of the romantic rumours that flew around never had any hold, apart from maybe the tiniest crush when we were both really young. He’s just the sweetest, most clueless guy I have ever met and I bet he will be married to Ginny when this time capsule is opened in twenty years. Probably with a whole brood of kids._

_Ron; He is the most annoying pain in the arse! I used to think that there was something there, something between us. But he left during the war, he left Harry and I alone in the middle of that war, and I struggle to forgive him for that. The whole business with Lavender made me wonder whether I was looking down the entirely wrong route there anyway...”_

Draco scanned over Ginny, Luna, and Neville's notes until his eyes finally found his name.

_“And finally, Draco Malfoy. What can I say about Draco Malfoy? I hated him when I first met him. I thought he was an arrogant little shit who had been spoiled rotten by his rich pureblood mummy and daddy. Honestly, he **was** that! But he is more than that too; he is just like Harry in many ways. He was forced into so many things, forced into becoming a Death Eater, forced into fighting on the wrong side of this war. And it was all to punish his father, all because of his father’s mistakes. And why should the sons suffer for the sins of the fathers? I have seen Draco in a whole new light ever since 6th year, and then throughout the war. I don’t know how he feels about me, I have never known if he called me names and ‘pulled at my pigtails’ because he liked me or because he really did just hate me. Sometimes I really did think he had a bit of a crush on me though-”_

“She knew?”

“Everybody knew!” Theo exclaimed.

“Everybody knew what?” Astoria asked angrily.

“That I’m in love with Hermione Granger!”

Theo grinned as Draco’s cheeks reddened, “I _knew_ it! God, Daphne called it so early! She got it in 3rd year, I bloody well knew it!”

“My sister _knew_ about this?” Astoria fumed.

“Everybody knew about it,” Theo replied, “Weren’t you there when he talked about her, and stared at her, and cursed the living daylights out of Viktor Krum for dating her?”

“No,” Astoria frowned,

“Merlin Astoria, you’re only two years younger than us. Where the hell where you when this was happening?” Theo asked in disbelief.

“Ugh!” Astoria exclaimed, “I am leaving, and my father will be cancelling that marriage contract, Draco!”

Draco glanced at her guiltily, “Astoria, I am so sorry-”

“Oh save it for Hermione Granger!” Astoria snapped, stalking from the restaurant in her high heels and flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

Theo took her vacated seat and drank from her half-empty wine glass, “You have to read the rest.”

Draco looked away from Astoria and glanced down.

_“But the truth is, I had a little bit of a crush on him too. He **is** very handsome after all, and I got into the habit of liking our battles of wit. He gave me a challenge, and I liked that. I think if something had happened between us, he would have kept me on my toes. I think we could have read books together, and discussed potions principles, and part of me wonders if maybe he was my soulmate.”_

“Soulmate.”

Theo nodded with a wide grin.

“I have to go and find her, don’t I?”

“Oh yeah,” Theo smirked, “She _didn’t_ marry the Weasel, and she _is_ working in the DMLE, so she’s easy to find...”

Draco grinned at Theo, “Thank you, Theo, thank you so much!” he said as he rushed out of the restaurant.

* * *

“Granger.”

Hermione jumped at the silky, smooth, and very familiar voice. She spun around and saw him, leaning in the doorway, his blonde hair longer than she remembered and not slicked back and covered in gel.

“Malfoy,” Hermione uttered in surprise.

Draco took a step into the office, “Do you have a moment?”

Hermione glanced at the fireplace and bit her lip, “I’m supposed to be babysitting for Harry and Ginny so it will have to be quick.”

“Why didn’t you marry Weasley?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “That’s none of your business.”

“I know,” Draco agreed, “But I still want to know the answer.”

“Malfoy, you disappeared off of the face of the earth for about ten years! I know you’re a potions brewer, but I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen you since the end of the war. You can’t just come back and ask why I didn’t marry Ron!”

“I _can_ ,” Draco said with a slight smile, “You don’t have to answer, but I can ask.”

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him, “Because I got bored, alright? I was sick of Quidditch, and I was sick of the lack of intelligent conversation, and I was sick of being teased for enjoying reading. If you must know!”

Draco smiled slightly as he pulled the scroll from his pocket, “You said ten years.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “You...you read that?”

Draco nodded, his grey eyes meeting her surprised brown eyes.

Hermione leant against her desk in surprise, “And?”

“And I wondered if you would come out for dinner with me?” Draco said with a slightly smug smile, “Because if you think we might be soulmates, I would quite like to test that.”

Hermione’s cheeks became pink, and it made Draco smile all the wider, “I can’t believe you actually dug it up...”

“I didn’t,” Draco admitted, “Theo did.”

Hermione laughed weakly, “And suddenly, everything makes sense.”

“So, about that dinner?” Draco asked, feeling a little cautious that she would say no now.

However, Hermione smiled and nodded, “Yes, dinner would be lovely.”

Draco’s smile was genuine, and it widened at her words. He gave her a small nod in return, “Saturday at 7 pm. I will pick you up, of course.”

“Aren’t you engaged, Draco?”

Draco looked a little sheepish, “I was in an arranged marriage, but Cygnus Greengrass nullified that contract this morning and fined me a great deal in the process.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at the former Slytherin.

“Because Theodore Nott burst into the restaurant moments before I proposed to Astoria,” Draco said, his own cheeks a little pink, “And gave me _this_ scroll of parchment.”

Hermione bit her lip in a way that had always made Draco want to kiss her, “I am so sorry.”

Draco shook his head very slightly, “Saturday.”

“Saturday,” Hermione agreed with a soft smile.

**THE END.**


	2. Crazy, Stupid, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy is crazily in love with Hermione Granger and it's making him stupid. Theodore Nott is 1000% done with his best friend's shit.

“Draco, would you quit whining?” Theodore Nott asked irritably.

Draco Malfoy was sprawled across his bed; he looked pathetic.

“I don’t know what you have to whine about,” Blaise agreed, “She loves you.”

“She doesn’t love me,” Draco said quietly, “She’s not that stupid.”

“She’s your girlfriend,” Theo pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean that she loves me,” Draco said, “She’s too good for me. Far too good.”

“Yes, she is,” Blaise agreed.

“She’s far too nice for you,” Theo said with a nod, “But for some reason she still loves you. I think she got a bump on the head during the war that made her a bit loopy.”

Blaise nodded, “That’s the only reason I can come up with for her falling in love with you.”

“Thanks for the self-esteem boost guys,” Draco said dryly.

Theo grinned wickedly, and Blaise sighed, “It doesn’t matter why she loves you, does it? It just matters that she does.”

“But she’s Hermione Granger, the golden princess of Gryffindor and I’m _me_.”

“Not this again,” Theo said, rolling his eyes and flopping on his dorm bed.

“Not what again?” A familiar voice said from the doorway.

“The whole, I’m Draco Malfoy. I’m a Death Eater, Slytherin scum and Hermione is golden and perfect, pity spiel,” Blaise said matter of factly.

Hermione shot Draco an amused look, “Does that really matter now that it’s all over?”

Draco’s cheeks were pink, “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at the blonde boy.

“Right!” Theo exclaimed, “Let’s settle this thing right here and now. Hermione, do you love Draco?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, and Draco exclaimed, “Theo!”

Theo rolled his eyes, “Please Hermione. I think I’m going to jump off the Astronomy tower if I have to put up with any more of this.”

Hermione smiled slightly, “Of course I love you, Draco.”

“There!” Theo shouted, “She loves you. Nobody cares why she loves you, but she does! Hermione, you love Draco. Draco, you love Hermione. Now please Draco, shut the hell up!”

Hermione bit her lip to try and hide her amused smile as Draco pulled the covers over his head and whined, “Just shut up, Theo!”

**THE END.**


	3. "Hermione!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is doodling and giggling, Ron is disturbed, and Harry is oblivious.

“Harry, what the hell is up with Hermione?” Ron muttered to his best friend as the potions master turned the other way to shout at Neville.

Harry frowned, “What? So she never answered Snape's question? It’s not a big deal, Ron.”

Ron was thinking about it too much, well he thought about Hermione in general too much.

“No big deal?! She answers every single question asked in every class Harry and shes _doodling_!” Ron exclaimed a little too loudly.

Harry groaned, Snape was heading their way with that cold look in his black eyes, as usual. He eyed Ron curiously, “What seems to be the problem, Mr Weasley?”

Harry replied before Ron could say something that would make Hermione want to kill him, “Oh its nothing sir, Rons just overthinking a situation, he has a tendency to do that.”

Ron nodded but glared at Harry at the same time. Snape looked slightly amused but walked away. Harry frowned at Ron, who only shrugged.

When Snape once again had his back turned, Harry mouthed at Ron, “Doodling?”

Ron nodded, looking as if he had just seen Voldemort tap dance into the room and kiss Snape. Harry bit his lip, he wasn’t worried like Ron was, but he knew that Hermione hadn’t been acting like her usual bookworm self lately.

He had assumed it was just because she had a crush or something. Ginny had told him girls changed when they had crushes.

Luckily for Harry and Ron, Hermione wasn’t at their table, if she had been, she would have heard their conversation, and they would both have had death threats by now. She had chosen to sit near the front of the class with Neville this year to help him pass NEWT level potions.

“Whats she doodling?” Harry asked in a whisper, and Ron replied incredulously and once again a little too loudly, “Love hearts and flowers! Bloody hell Harry I thought tap-dancing spiders and green jelly were weird!”

Snape headed over once more, “Is there a problem, Mr Weasley?” he drawled, and once again Harry saved his friend.

“Sir I believe there is, Ron is blabbering on about love hearts, flowers, tap dancing spiders and green jelly. Maybe you should send him to the hospital wing.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at Ron whose ears had turned red and who was glaring at Harry, “Well Mr Weasley, do try to keep your musings to yourself. We don’t all want to know your deepest secrets, however… amusing…some may find it.”

Harry snickered as the thought of Ron standing on the desk, telling everyone he had a crush on Trelawney in 3rd year crossed his mind.

He burst out laughing making Snape turn his glare on him, “Something funny Potter?”

Harry quickly shook his head and calmed himself. Oh, Ron would kill him after class today.

When the bell rang, everyone sighed in relief that it was the end of double potions.

Hermione ran up to them and grinned, “Hello Harry, Ron,” she greeted them cheerfully.

Harry smiled in return, when was Hermione ever _this_ happy? It confused him, but he held his tongue. Ron, however, did not.

“Okay, Hermione. What is up with you? You are _always_ happy these days, and you let me off with everything! You have been offering to do my homework _and_ Harrys, and for crying out loud, you were drawing hearts and flowers on your notebook and not listening to Snape in Potions today!” Ron vented, then took a deep breath and looked at Hermione who was smiling.

“Yes I know, isn’t it great to be happy all the time?” She asked cheerfully, then as an afterthought added, “Oh Harry, did you take notes today?”

Harry nodded warily, half expecting a lecture about how bad he was at taking notes, but she grinned, “Great! Can I borrow them?”

Harry opened his mouth to say she could, but Ron spoke first, “ _You_ didn’t take notes in _potions_? Hermione… Potions is your favourite class. Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger?”

Hermione giggled, and Ron gaped, “You’re _giggling_?!”

“Mr Weasley, you are causing quite a fuss. I must ask once again what the problem is.” Snape said, appearing from the shadows.

For a moment, Ron forgot who he was talking to, “Hermione is the problem! She didn’t answer questions or take notes, and she wasn’t even listening in Potions today, and it's her favourite class! _And_ she was _doodling_ and _giggling_!”

Ron was staring at Hermione like he couldn’t believe it was her and Snape looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, “I don’t think it is anything you need to worry about Mr Weasley, love can do strange things to people.”

“LOVE?!!”

Snape was smirking now, “Oh Miss Granger hasn’t told you about her little meetings with Draco Malfoy?”

Their jaws dropped, and Hermione was glaring at Snape with a passion, “Oops,” he said smirking as he walked away.

_“HERMIONE?!”_

**THE END!**


	4. Marry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione are both at a wedding - a wedding that neither of them wanted to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the song "Marry Me" by Thomas Rhett :)

I have always known how this day would play out; I have always been able to picture it.

Daphne always wanted to get married, and she’s had the ‘perfect’ wedding day planned from the age of 4. I remember her telling me about it while she wore a pink tutu and danced around the drawing-room.

She wants her Grandfather to conduct the service; back then, I think that was just because she admired and adored him. Now, I guess it makes sense since Cyrus Greengrass is a former Minister for Magic and a pretty damn good one. You don’t just reform an entire country post-war and get swept under the carpet with the likes of Fudge and Scrimgeour.

She wants magnolias, her favourite flower for as long as I can remember. She wants it out in the country, in the middle of summer, July preferably. She wants the sun shining down; she doesn’t mind if there’s a summer shower either.

She doesn’t want a big grand affair, no huge pureblood wedding just the people she loves most. She might love herself a little too much sometimes, but she doesn’t love having all of the attention on her, she never has done. The irony is that her father, Cygnus Greengrass, CEO of Greengrass Industries, a huge global tycoon, could afford the biggest, grandest wedding of the century, let alone the decade. But that’s not what Daphne wants, and for all his sins, he loves his daughter. He would always have respected her wishes for that reason.

She has had it all planned out like that, for years. So I have always been able to shut my eyes and picture it and now, the day has come. I’m hiding out in the back, wearing my best dress robes with a hipflask of firewhiskey in my pocket.

I’ll try to make it through without crying because I don’t want anybody to see the truth. She wants to get married, but she doesn’t want to marry me.

I sigh and shuffle in my seat as the bridal march begins to play, and she floats in, looking like an angel. She beams radiantly at him; she doesn’t even glance over; she doesn’t even know that I’m here.

My hand clenches around the flask in my pocket as she glides down the aisle and stops next to her almost-husband. I can’t help but think that I could have stopped this if I hadn’t been such a coward. If I had just taken the chance when I had it all those years ago…

I shut my eyes briefly and remembered the night when I almost kissed her. She freaked out because we had been friends forever. Our Mothers had thrown us together as children because they were best friends, and they were married to businessmen, who spent more time on work trips than they did with their families. We went to school together, we were both in Slytherin, from the age of 4 we had pretty much always been together, and from the age of 11, or maybe it was 12, I had been pathetically in love with Daphne. Pansy had seen it, which was why she had been a stone-cold bitch to Daphne throughout pretty much our entire time at Hogwarts and come my 6th year, I really thought I had blown any chance that I had with Daphne. Not just as a future girlfriend, but as a best friend too. Her family were firmly neutral in the war with Voldemort, and as she found out when I rocked up to school with a snake on my arm, mine were not.

After the war, we managed to salvage our friendship, and at a Ministry Ball precisely a year later, we both had a little too much to drink, and we were dancing. I leaned over, with the full intent of kissing her but then Theodore Nott stepped in and ruined it, and Daphne was out of there like a shot. We never discussed that almost-kiss again, but it didn’t stop me from wondering if Daphne felt the same way as me.

When I got the wedding invite…I knew I was too late.

I open my eyes and look over at her as she smiles at him. Cygnus stands by her side, lifts her veil and kisses her on the cheek. I know how much he has been dreading this day, he is still a firm friend of my Mothers, and despite his cool, calm exterior, he still feels sad to give his eldest daughter away.

I don’t suppose he knows that he’s not the only one giving her away.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, Cygnus glanced to the back of the room, he looked me in the eye, smiled sympathetically and took his seat.

As the ceremony began in earnest, I eventually looked at the man she was marrying, the man who I felt was beneath her but she’s in love with him. If I had said anything, she would have known it was out of jealousy and spite, so I had remained silent on the subject of her upcoming nuptials.

“If anyone has any reason why these two should not be justly wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The words hit me like a piercing charm to the chest. I wanted to stand up there and scream that I objected because I did but how would that help anything? I could do it, I could get it all off of my chest, but I love Daphne, and the last thing I want to do is mess this up for her.

So I remain silent, cursed to forever hold my peace, and I hear those words uttered…

“Do you, Daphne Lareina Greengrass, take this man, Harry James Potter, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

And I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for it, the two words that will kill any embers of hope that I had for us…

“I do.”

She had always wanted to get married, and her day was playing out perfectly, just as she had always wished, but she was never going to marry me, and I could finally accept that now.

* * *

I have always wanted to get married. Like most little girls, I have always had a vision of my wedding day. I had wanted my Grandfather to preach the service, but he had died of a nasty bout of flu after the war, so I knew that dream would no longer come true. He had been the Minister at our local church for as long as I could remember. As a little girl, I had looked up to him, perhaps more than I had looked up to my father.

When I thought about my wedding day, I imagined having it in the grounds of the Burrow, just like Bill and Fleur had done, with magnolias everywhere because they are my favourite flower. I didn’t want many people to be there, because I don’t like the attention to be on myself and heaven knows, a small wedding would save my dad some money, and despite what other people think about us, my family are not made of money.

I had it all planned out. I could picture every detail, but it had not exactly gone to plan because here I am. We _are_ in the country, but nowhere near the Burrow and yes, it is a small gathering, but it’s not _my family_. There are magnolias because they are her favourite flower too. And her Grandfather is conducting the service because, not only is he alive, he was also the most prolific Minister for Magic that our world has ever seen.

So that leaves me here, hiding out towards the back, with a flask of firewhiskey in my handbag because this may well be the worst day of my life, which is saying something considering my other ‘bad’ days are mostly all near-death experiences. But somehow this hurts more than any physical torture because Harry’s the one I want to marry, but he doesn’t want to marry me.

I try to hold back tears as Daphne walks into the church and the bridal march begins to play. His eyes light up when he sees her and I wish that he had looked at me like that all of those years ago…

I remember the night that could have changed things, the night when I kissed him. He freaked out because we had been friends for forever. I had been in love with him since 2nd year, when I woke up and he was there, and I dashed across the great hall to him.

I had secretly been glad for his fallouts with Ron in the later years because it was time he had spent with me, particularly in our 4th year when I had fallen harder than ever for my best friend. But I could never tell if it was one-sided or not, it was impossible because Harry was just so clueless.

Then there had been the war, and everything had changed. Ron left. For the first time in a long time, it was just us, just us in difficult circumstances at a tumultuous time in our lives when we didn’t know if we would survive our teenage years. One night, there had been music on the radio, instead of just bad news, and we had danced. We had laughed, and for this brief moment, we felt like ourselves again, and in the heat of that moment, we had kissed. We both knew it could have gone further, but Harry stopped it before it could, and then he left the tent with the excuse of ‘foraging for food’. When he came back the next morning, he didn’t bring it up, so I decided not to either but there was always a part of me, tiny though it was that wondered if he felt the same way.

But when I got the wedding invite, I knew I was too late.

Then there are the words that I have been dreading…

“If anybody knows of any rightful impediment why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

I swallow a lump in my throat, my lips are dry, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I know I could do it, I could stand up and object, I could get all of this off of my chest. I could do it but I never will because I love Harry, as a friend beyond all else, and I know that he loves Daphne. As much as I hate it, as much as it tears me up inside, I will never stop him from being happy because Merlin knows, he deserves it.

The last thing I want to do is mess this up for Harry so when he glances over at me, I smile tearfully but say nothing.

I expect this whole ceremony to hurt, but the words that cut me deeper than a knife are…

“Do you Harry James Potter, take this woman, Daphne Lareina Greengrass, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

I know he will say yes, but some small pathetic part of me still wishes that he comes to his senses, says no and runs to the back of the garden to kiss me.

“I do.”

I take a sharp breath and avert my eyes from the happy couple while they kiss as man and wife. My eyes find another solitary figure, standing towards the back with Daphne’s family and friends. He catches my eye, and we both understand the predicament that the other is in perfectly.

Draco gives me a sympathetic nod. I dry my eyes hastily and attempt to smile at him, but he has seen right through me because the way I feel about Harry is how he feels about Daphne.

* * *

Later, at the reception, she finds me. I knew that she would, she’s an inquisitive woman, so it was only a matter of time.

“Well Malfoy, aren’t we quite the pair?”

I don’t look over at her, but I can feel her presence next to me, and smell her perfume, the same one she has been using since we were at school together. I keep my eyes on Daphne as she shares her first dance with her husband, but I say, “Quite so Granger. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are in love with your best friend.”

“And if I didn’t know any better, I would say that the same goes for you,” She quips. I can tell she’s smiling from the way she says it.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” I say, glancing to the side and meeting her brown eyes.

“Deal,” She says softly. Then she holds out her hand to me and says, “But as neither of us can dance with the person that we would really like to, why don’t we dance with each other?”

I am about to tell her the idea is preposterous, but her warm smile catches me off guard, so I hesitate for a moment. Then I find a smile coming to my face, “Do you know something Granger, that is not actually the worst idea you have ever had.”

Her smile widens, and it takes me by surprise. I lead her out onto the dance floor where slews of happy couples are already dancing, and she says, “No, my worst idea by far has to be forgetting I was a witch with a wand when I got trapped in Devils Snare.”

I chuckle, and the sound seems to take her by surprise, “I think you ought to tell me the rest of that story over a drink, once we have finished our dance, of course.”

“Of course,” Hermione echoes softly.

**The End!**


	5. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione doesn't want to play "Confessions", it's a silly game for children and it never tends to end well...

“Confessions is a silly game for children.”

“Sounds like someone’s a scaredy-cat,” Ron teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I’m not a scaredy-cat, I just think it’s a stupid game to play when you’ve been drinking. It never ends well; somebody always gets hurt.”

“When has anyone ever gotten hurt from playing confessions?” Harry asked his best friend.

The trio was sitting in a large circle on the floor with a few others. They were in the drawing-room of 12 Grimmauld Place at Harry’s annual pre-Christmas party, and everyone had probably had a few too many drinks.

“Ginny punched you in the face last year,” Draco pointed out from Harry’s other side. He was Harry’s Auror partner, and he had befriended them all over the past five years. Even Ron had grudgingly accepted that he was a decent-ish bloke.

“And Hermione ran out crying two years ago when Ron confessed that he had dated Lavender to piss her off,” Daphne Greengrass piped up. She was another former Slytherin that they had befriended, she and Hermione shared an office in the DMLE.

“And not to forget the first time we played it when Ron tried to kill Seamus for admitting he’d slept with Ginny,” Dean added.

Seamus had the decency to look sheepish at that comment, but Ginny just rolled her eyes and glared at her brother, “Yeah, who could forget that?”

“See?” Hermione said, “This is a bad idea.”

Harry shrugged, “So what if it is? It’s tradition, so we’re playing it anyway.”

Hermione groaned and crossed her arms in protest. The game began without her anyway, it was like truth or dare, except without the dares. An enchanted bottle landed on two people; the first person had to confess something about the second.

Hermione managed to avoid playing the game for a few turns as some confessions came out. Harry confessed he had fancied Daphne during their 6th year. Ginny admitted she had thought about a threesome with Dean and Seamus, and at that point, Ron had been held back by Harry. Luna confessed she thought Ron was handsome, and then the bottle landed on Hermione.

“Oh little miss grumpy is going to have to play,” Ron teased as the bottle stopped spinning and landed on Draco.

“A confession about Draco,” Harry said, trying not to send Hermione a knowing look. The two acted like they couldn’t stand to be alone in a room together, but Harry had been trying to set them up for years.

Hermione wracked her brains for a confession that didn’t embarrass her. In a moment of genius, one came to her, and she smirked slightly, “Okay, I have one. Do you all remember that I got petrified in 2nd year?”

There were nods around the circle. Hermione continued, “And do you remember how you found a piece of paper in my hands about the basilisk?” she directed to Harry and Ron.

“Yeah, you had just found out when it petrified you,” Harry said with a nod.

“Well, I didn’t find out personally,” Hermione admitted, “I mean you guys know me, do I seem like the kind of person who would rip a page out of a book when I could just borrow it from the library?”

“No,” Harry and Ron echoed.

“But if you didn’t rip it out of a book, how did you find out?” Harry asked.

Hermione glanced over at Draco, it was hard to read his expression, “I was in the library looking for information about what was going on when an envelope flew over. I opened it, and it contained that page, about the basilisk, which is how I worked out it was in the pipes. At first, I didn’t know who had given me the paper, but then I remembered watching Draco ripping a page out of a book in Flourish and Blott’s at the start of the year. That, combined with the fact that his house-elf warned Harry that the chamber would be opened, led me to think that he had known what was happening and had given me the paper to warn me.”

Draco gave her a nod, “That would be correct.”

“And this is the first of you two talking about this?” Daphne asked in disbelief, “This happened 11 years ago!”

Hermione shrugged, “It never came up in conversation.”

“Right…” Harry said, sensing an awkward atmosphere beginning to creep in, “How about we break for drinks?”

His suggestion was greeted with approval, and everybody spread out across the drawing-room once more. Hermione slipped out to help Harry with drinks, but she only got halfway down the staircase before being cornered.

“Granger, a word?”

Hermione rolled her eyes before turning around to look at the blonde man, “Sure.”

Draco then grabbed her arm and pressed hard on the frame of a portrait lining the stairway. It pushed back into the wall, revealing a tunnel that you could walk in.

“How did you know that was there?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“I lived in this house when Harry and I were training together,” Draco reminded her, “And I like to explore.”

Hermione frowned but followed him into the tunnel. It was very short and led to a secret room hidden beneath the drawing-room floor. Harry clearly knew it was here because it was filled with his favourite alcohol.

“What is it with pureblood houses and secret rooms underneath drawing room floors?” Hermione asked with a shake of her head.

“It comes from an ancient technique employed in Scottish castles. The lord would install some vent above the fireplace with a secret room hidden behind it so that he could eavesdrop on his guests,” Draco explained.

“We put our secret rooms beneath the floor but with a simple spell-” he flicked his wrist, and the chatter of those above could be heard, “- we can replicate the effect.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Very good; you can stop showing off now.”

Draco smirked and flicked his wrist once more. The sound of chatter disappeared immediately, “You outed me publicly up there.”

“Outed you?” Hermione scoffed, “I admitted you had helped me once, why does it matter to you?”

“Because even though you can’t see it, everyone else in that room knows exactly why I did it,” Draco said calmly, “Except for Weasley, obviously.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, “Why then? You warned me, but back then we were certainly not friends so why on earth would you want to warn me?”

“For the same reason I sent my house elf to warn Harry,” Draco said, “I may have been a bully, but I was never a murderer. I knew the basilisk would go for muggle-borns and I knew Harry was in danger. I did not want either of you to die.”

“And that’s all there is to it?” Hermione asked, “Because not wanting me to die isn’t something I would call an ‘outing’ to be honest with you.”

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “It did go deeper with you. I wanted to warn you because I cared about you, back then it was a silly little schoolboy crush.”

“And now?” Hermione asked, painfully aware of how close together they were in this little nook.

“And now,” Draco said, his eyes falling on her lips, “It is so much more.”

Hermione was unsure what to say to that. She was uncertain if she could say anything to that, she opened her mouth to try to, but she shut it again when nothing came out.

Draco merely smirked and leant forward ever so slightly, closing the minuscule gap between them. He captured her lips in a soft, chaste kiss and murmured, “Maybe confessions isn’t so bad a game after all.”

“Maybe not,” Hermione agreed before letting Draco capture her lips once more.

**THE END** **_  
_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this Tumblr post by ‘hp-headcanon’:  
> “599. In their second year, Hermione lied to Harry and Ron. She didn't rip the page out of a book about Basilisks. She would never do that. Hermione Granger would never disgrace literature like that. She could have just borrowed the book from the library, after all. She didn’t want to admit that someone made sure she got that paper, someone who wanted to help her. That someone was Draco Malfoy, whom she had seen ripping a page out of a book in Diagon Alley earlier that year.”


	6. Sad, Beautiful, Tragic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy ought to be happy on the eve of his daughter's wedding, but all he can do is think about her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:   
> ANGST, ANGST, MEGA ANGST.  
> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.
> 
> Based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name - "Sad, Beautiful, Tragic".

I’d always gotten the impression that my Dad was happy with my mum, but sometimes I guess I saw the cracks. When they’d fight they’d usually send me to stay the night with Grandma, they didn’t want me to hear them arguing. Dad always said he’d been forced to listen to horrible things happening in his house and he hadn’t wanted the same for us.

I got lonely sometimes, in this big house now that my big sister was gone. I pretended that she got on my nerves, but I didn’t know what to do all day without her. She had been at Hogwarts for a while now, so I was used to it. But she was like my mum in a way because she was so much older than me. Not that mum wasn’t around; she was, just not as much as Dad and Cassie.

We all have strange names in our family, Dad says it’s a family tradition, naming your kids after stars, Cassie’s real name is Cassiopeia, but she hates it, so we all call her Cassie and my name is Scorpius, but my friends call me Scorp.

Mum works in the Ministry. She’s in DMLE and Dad says that means she’s really important and that she helps send bad people to jail. Dad stays at home more than Mum, and he makes potions in his lab, he lets me help him most of the time but sometimes when he’s doing something really dangerous he sends me to Grandma’s or lets me go to Hogwarts so Cassie can look after me.

I’m allowed pretty much anywhere in the manor, now that I’m 8 Dad says I can go anywhere apart from the doors that are locked. I think there are still some rooms I haven’t explored; it’s so big. I’m not allowed to go in the rooms on the top floor either; Dad never told me why.

Dad even built a Quidditch pitch outside; he wants me to be a Quidditch player like Cassie when I go to Hogwarts because Cassie is the seeker for Ravenclaw.

My friend Albus thought my Dad would be angry that Cassie didn’t become a Slytherin, but he wasn’t mad at all, he said he was very proud of Cassie. Dad never tries to make us be something we aren’t; he says the most important thing is being yourself and not changing to make others like you more.

Today Dad was making an important potion, and Grandma was on holiday, so he told me not to do anything bad and find something to do until he was done. I got bored quickly, but I tried not to go wandering because Dad said if I behaved he’d take me out to the Quidditch pitch when he was finished.

Dad took ages, and I got so bored that I decided to go for a walk. When I was on my walk I passed a door on the top floor I hadn’t noticed before, doors seemed to appear and disappear a lot in the manor. I remembered what Dad always told me when I looked at the door.

_‘Just remember Scorp, if you don’t know what’s on the other side of a door don’t open it. Don’t trust an object if you don’t know where its brain is.’_

I knew I should have listened to Dad’s voice inside my head, but I didn’t, something made me reach up and grab the handle of the door. I twisted it just to see if it was locked and when I realised that it wasn’t and the door swung open I couldn’t resist walking into the room.

At first, I didn’t understand what it was; it didn’t seem extraordinary; it was just a bedroom. Then I looked a little closer and saw pictures of Dad with a woman I didn’t know, all the pictures had the same woman in them, and I had to think, did this room belong to this mysterious woman?

Cassie is much older than me. I asked Dad why once and he said that these things just happen. Cassie is in 5th year at Hogwarts; Dad says she’s seven years older than me. Cassie and me look different too. I look like Dad; my hair is blond like his, and I have blue eyes like his.

Cassie has brown hair, like Mum, but Mum has light brown hair, nearly blonde but not like Dad and me. Cassie has really dark hair and brown eyes. Mum and Dad both have blue eyes.

Dad says sometimes kids eyes aren’t the same colours as their parents, but Al says that’s not true. Al says he found out in Muggle school that all kids get their eye colour from their Mum or Dad; I think he’s making it up because Dad would never lie to me.

I reached up to pick up the photo of the woman and Dad, but then I heard Dad shout and pick me up.

“Scorpius!” he shouted angrily, “Leave that room alone! What have I told you about not using rooms on this floor of the manor? Go to your bedroom!”

Dad didn’t get angry much, but when he did, it scared me, so I did what he said and hurried to my room. It wasn’t until I got to my room I realised I’d dropped my book on my way back from the top floor of the manor, I tiptoed up to the door to grab the book, and I saw Dad sitting on the bed in the room I had been thrown out of.

He was holding the photograph and crying. I’d never seen my Dad cry before, and it scared me so much that I ran back to my room, and I tried not to think about the room ever again.

* * *

** 10 YEARS LATER **

****

“Cassie, don’t make me do it again,” Scorpius whined as he collapsed into a seat in front of his sister.

Cassie groaned, “Scorp! This is my wedding, can you please just do one more rehearsal?” she gave him the big eyes that made him feel guilty, so huffily Scorpius said, “Fine!” and pushed himself to his feet.

“Still can’t believe someone’s marrying you,” Scorpius teased getting a glare from his sister.

“Thanks Scorp, now get in your place, come on, next to Al.”

Scorpius stuck his tongue out at his sister and stood next to Al who was standing next to his big brother James, “She’s so pushy,” he said under his breath.

“It’s her wedding day Scorp, she wants it to be perfect,” Al said with a smile.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, “You’re such a woman, Al,” he said dryly.

“You’re the woman in this relationship,” Al snorted, getting smacked by Scorpius which in turn got both boys a glare from Cassie.

“Ready?” Cassie asked the blonde-haired girl next to her.

Victoire nodded, “Ready,” she confirmed.

“Okay, so I’ll walk down here like this,” Cassie said, beginning the 4th rehearsal of the morning.

“Yeah Cass you walk down the aisle, some cheesy stuff happens, you kiss Ted, and everyone lives happily ever after,” James yawned.

This time Victoire turned on the boy, “James, you’re 22 years old, can you not be sensible for once in your life?”

“We’re bored,” James and Scorpius whined, and Cassie sighed, “Well you can go and do whatever you want after the rehearsal, the wedding is tomorrow so can you please be serious for just one second!”

“I’m not Sirius, I’m James,” James joked.

Cassie wasn’t in the mood, “James!” she shouted angrily.

“James, Al, Scorp,” Harry Potter said from where he’d been watching the rehearsal in the shadows, “Cass is getting married tomorrow, just do the bloody rehearsal, will you? The younger kids are behaving better than you three.”

Draco sniggered from where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed next to Harry.

Scorpius had huffily stood awkwardly in his spot upon been told off by Harry, “I see that he listens to you and not me,” Draco retorted as he watched his daughter take a deep breath as Victoire told her to calm down.

“He listens to Al more to the point,” Harry said fondly as Cassie walked down the aisle and motioned for the flower girl to walk down after her.

Cassie’s flower girl was Roxanne Weasley, George and Angelina’s little girl. Next, the pageboy walked down the aisle with the rings. Cassie’s pageboy was Fred, again George and Angelina’s boy. They were the only children young enough, most of the Weasley and Potter children were teenagers now, but Roxanne and Fred were 7 and 9 respectively.

“True,” Draco admitted, watching the proceedings, “Well at least he listens to someone; it’s more than I did at his age.”

Harry laughed at that, “She’s so much like her mother, isn’t she?” he sighed as Cassie finished the rehearsal and laughed at something one of her best friends, Jessica Longbottom, had said.

“Yeah,” Draco said quietly, a sadness falling over them, “She looks more and more like her every day.”

“You still love her, don’t you?” Harry asked as Scorpius, Al and James hurried out of the room the moment they were told that they were allowed too. Cassie was still engaged in conversation with Victoire and Jessica.

“Of course I do,” Draco admitted, his eyes not leaving his daughter, “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.”

“I miss her too,” Harry said, his eyes cast downwards, “Is Astoria coming tomorrow?”

Draco nodded, “Yeah, at the end of the day, she raised Cassie. She’s been nothing but a supportive mother to her.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said sadly, “About the divorce.”

Draco shrugged, pushing himself off of the wall, “I guess it was always going to happen. How can you commit to someone when you’re in love with a ghost?”

“I understand,” Harry said honestly, “But all the same, I’m sorry.”

Draco nodded, “I appreciate that,” he said truthfully, even managing to smile at Harry.

After everything Draco had been through with Harry, not being friends wasn’t an option anymore.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Harry said finally as he left the room, leaving Draco alone to watch the girls.

Cassie spun around, “Oh Dad, I wanted to ask you something!”

Draco smiled, a real genuine smile this time, it was always genuine with his daughter, he stepped forward from the shadows, “What is it?” he asked.

Cassie turned to her two best friends, Victoire and Jessica, the two girls she’d gone through Hogwarts with, “Vic, Jess, do you mind if I meet you back at the manor? I’m going to go for a walk with Dad.”

“Sure,” The girls said in unison as Cassie grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around herself, “Can we go and sit outside?”

Draco would do pretty much anything for his daughter, so he nodded, letting her put her arm through his. She led him out of the church's door into the small garden behind the graveyard of Godric’s Hollow. It was relatively cold as Cassie had wanted a winter wedding and it was the middle of October.

“I have something borrowed, something new and something blue, but I don’t have something old,” Cassie admitted as she drew her cloak tighter around herself, “I asked Mum, but she said to ask you. I found it odd because traditionally the bride wears something of her Mothers.”

Draco’s throat went dry; he knew this conversation had been coming, which was why he’d been carrying a small box in his robe pocket for the past two weeks. He looked down, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to tell her.

“Cass, I need to tell you something,’ Draco said, catching his daughter's big brown eyes, those eyes always made his breath catch in his throat, they were the same eyes that her mother had looked at him with so many times.

Cassie’s face fell, “Oh God, Dad...I’m adopted, aren’t I?”

“No, no,” Draco said quickly, he sighed, “No, Cass, but Astoria isn’t your mother.”

“What?” Cassie asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I suppose she is,” Draco amended, “But biologically she isn’t your mother. Your real mother died giving birth to you.”

“She’s not my mum?” Cassie asked, still in shock, “And you tell me this the day before my wedding?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks,” Draco admitted, something flickered in Cassie’s face as her features softened, it was like she could sense the pain he was in at the moment.

“I guess I should have seen sooner,” Cassie admitted, as all the oddities started to make sense, “I don’t have blue eyes like you or Mum, and my hairs always been so much darker than Mum’s, I was a Ravenclaw even though you were both in Slytherin.”

Draco nodded, staying silent, hoping she’d ask the questions, and for a while, she continued to work things out, “And the age gap between Scorp and me...he’s my half-brother, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed as Cassie came to terms with it all.

“Cass, to all intents and purposes Astoria is your Mother, she raised you-”

Cassie snorted and said, “You know that’s debatable Dad, she was never around, you raised Scorp and me.”

Draco smiled a little at this, he _had_ raised Cassie and Scorpius, and he was proud of that. In his mind, it was the greatest achievement in his life, raising two kids as good as them.

“Your real mother would be so proud tomorrow Cassie,” Draco said, his eyes getting watery, he hoped Cassie wouldn’t notice, but he knew she would, “She would be so proud that you were a Ravenclaw, so proud of the fact you got an O in all your O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T’s. She would love the fact you work with animals at the Ministry too; she wanted to do that, she would have done it if she got the chance.”

Cassie reached over to her Dad and grabbed his hand as he embarrassedly wiped away the tears on his face; they sat on the icy bench in the dying garden in silence for a moment.

“Was she was a Ravenclaw too?” Cassie asked once her Dad had composed himself a little.

Draco shook his head. He smiled at his daughter, “No, she was a Gryffindor.”

Cassie laughed loudly, and Draco laughed with her, “You dated a Gryffindor? Really?”

Draco nodded, still laughing, “She was the only Gryffindor I’d ever been interested in. She was beautiful and funny. Merlin, she was so brave and so intelligent. She was the greatest witch of our age, and she got the highest grades in the year at Hogwarts.”

“She sounds a bit like me,” Cassie said quietly, wishing she’d known this mother she’d only just discovered.

“You remind me of her every day,” Draco said with a smile to his daughter, “You look just like her, you have her eyes, her hair, her face, and you definitely have her brains.”

“What happened to her Dad?” Cassie asked, it was the inevitable question, and it was the one that Draco knew would be the hardest to answer.

Draco sighed, glad that Cassie’s hand was still in his, he took a deep breath, “After the war, I realised what an idiot I had been for everything I had done, and I decided to get away for a little while, so I went to America to a house your grandfather owned in the Hamptons. I knew your mother from Hogwarts, but we hadn’t really gotten on, I was surprised to bump into her in New York, but she had gone there with the same intention as me, to get some breathing space.”

Draco paused, and Cassie waited patiently, she was caught, hanging on to his every word.

“I had to convince her I wasn’t a complete git anymore, but I managed it, and when she realised I had changed she agreed to start going out with me, but no one back here knew about it apart from Harry, Ron, your grandma and her parents. We found out in September she was pregnant with you, and you were born in April the next year,” Draco finished, hoping that would be enough for Cassie, but he knew she was too curious to leave the matter there.

“Yes, but...how did she die, Dad? With magic these days death through childbirth is rare,” Cassie said knowledgeably, and Draco knew he was going to have to talk about the most painful time of his life.

“Yes, it is, and it was then too but not quite as rare as it is now. 2 in 10 women died in childbirth back then. Your mother gave birth to you in America, where healthcare is supposed to be better. Still, something went wrong, it’s a problem that happens during or after childbirth called ‘Eclampsia’, your mother had swollen ankles, and her vision was blurred which the healers said was normal for someone so young giving birth, they said it wasn’t a problem, and we believed them. She gave birth and held you, and we named you together, Cassiopeia after the stars. I know you hate your full name Cass, but it was your mother who decided to give it to you,” Draco was aware his face was wet as he smiled at Cassie who was also crying.

“My mother named me before she died?” Cassie asked, her voice breaking.

Draco was finding this even harder now that he had seen Cassie’s tears.

“Yes. She was tired, so the healer put you in a little cot, and I fell asleep by your mother's bed, then in the middle of the night I woke up to hear your mother screaming in pain, talking nonsense and having seizures.”

Draco squeezed his eyes shut; he hated to think of her that way, “If the healers had noticed it before you’d been born. They would have delivered you through a caesarean section instead of through natural birth, and your mother could have lived. But as it was, it was too late. The healers tried, but she had four seizures, then her heart stopped beating.’

“Dad,” Cassie gasped, still in tears, she moved closer to her father and wrapped her arms around him, “I’m so sorry,” she said as she cried against him.

She could feel him shaking with silent sobs. They stayed like that for a little while, as the sky started to turn a pinky-orange colour.

“What was her name?” Cassie eventually managed to ask as she pulled herself up to sit up straight.

Draco pulled the box out of his pocket, it wasn’t huge, about the size of a photograph, but it was fairly deep, “Hermione,” he said quietly, it was the first time he had spoken her name aloud in years, “Hermione Granger.”

Cassie gasped, “Hermione Granger was my mother? The war heroine who fought with Harry and Ron? Who helped defeat Voldemort?”

Draco nodded, smiling sadly, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Wow,” Cassie said, shaking her head in disbelief, “The history books say Death Eaters in America killed her.”

“As far as the history books and the Ministry of Magic are concerned, that’s how she died,” Draco said simply, placing the box in Cassie’s hands, “I should have given you this a long time ago.”

Cassie looked hesitantly at the little wooden box. It had a lion and a snake carved onto the top of it and intertwined in the snakes’ tail was a D, whereas almost hidden in the lion's mane was an H.

Cassie opened the box slowly, and gently took out each of the items stored inside it, “There isn’t much,” Draco admitted, “But it’s something to remember her by. I thought you could wear the earrings tomorrow.”

Cassie was silent as she looked at the items in the little wooden box: there was a ticket from platform 9 ¾ dated ‘1996’, a ratty old Gryffindor tie and a gold bookmark decorated with the Gryffindor crest. Cassie frowned as she pulled out an old galleon, “Dad, why is there a galleon in here?” she asked.

Draco glanced at the galleon and remembered the story Harry had told him about it; he smiled.

“Your mother was part of Dumbledore’s Army, a group of students who wanted to defend themselves in our 5th year when our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher wouldn’t let us do magic. It was banned to meet with other students, so the group had to be careful, and your mum was so smart, she came up with a clever idea. She gave everyone a fake galleon that would burn and show the date of the next meeting so nobody could be followed and only members knew when the meetings were.”

Cassie seemed amazed, “Wow, Dad, how come she wasn’t a Ravenclaw?”

“She was far too brave for that,” Draco said simply as Cassie put the coin back in the box and carefully took out the next object.

“Dad, is this a _real_ time-turner?”

Draco’s heart ached when he saw the time-turner, he nodded, trying to find his voice, “She used it in her 3rd year to get to her classes, and then I think she went back in time by a few hours to save someone’s life, but I’m not supposed to know about that, only a few people know. Harry told me about it after she died.”

“Does it-” Cassie began to ask.

Draco shook his head, “No, it doesn’t work,” he said, and there was something in his voice that led Cassie to believe he’d tried to use it more than once.

The last two items Cassie took from the box were the most personal, and Draco knew they were the two things she would be able to pick from to use as her ‘something old’ for the wedding.

Draco watched as Cassie examined the red flower necklace that Hermione had worn to Bill and Fleur's wedding. She then turned her attention to the pink flower earrings Hermione had worn to the Yule Ball. Draco felt like he had a lump in his throat stopping him from breathing, he remembered how he’d danced with Hermione for all of 3 minutes towards the end of the night when Harry and Ron had slunk off, he remembered how there had been a spark. Then Hermione had hurried off, and things had gone back to how they were between them, the hatred, the animosity.

“I’ll wear them tomorrow,” Cassie said after a short silence.

Draco smiled and stood from the bench; he held out his hand and helped his daughter up. Cassie put her arm through her father’s like she so often did and they began to walk back to the apparition point to make their way back to Malfoy Manor.

“I’m glad, Cass,” Draco said with a smile, “I know wherever she is, your mother will be watching tomorrow.”

They shared one more smile before they turned on the spot and apparated back to their home.

* * *

When the next morning loomed, Cassie needed her two best friends more than ever.

“Really?” Jessica had exclaimed after Cassie had relayed to her what her father had told her the night before.

“No way!” Victoire had shouted, rolling over to get a better look at Cassie and nearly falling out of bed.

“It’s true!” Cassie said. The three of them were lying in her king-size bed in her large bedroom at Malfoy Manor, “My real Mother was Hermione Granger.”

“ _The_ Hermione Granger!” Victoire said, shaking her head, “Why did Dad never tell me? You know Uncle Ron always had a thing for her, Dad knew her pretty well.”

“Well,” Cassie said, “That’s the point. Hardly anyone knows the truth, so you two have to keep it to yourself.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Jessica said quickly, “I still can’t believe Dad didn’t know, Dad was really close with Harry’s group of friends, I think he had a crush on Hermione when they were all at Hogwarts together.”

“She was a Gryffindor though,” Victoire said, “Your Dad had a fling with a Gryffindor!”

“I know! I couldn’t believe it either, but I don’t think it was a fling,” Cassie said honestly as she got out of bed and stretched, “The way he was talking about it...I think he loved her, and I think he still does.”

“If he still loved her he wouldn’t have married your mum, I mean Astoria, but wait, is she-” Jessica was getting confused now.

“She’s still my Mum, I guess, as Dad put it ‘she raised you’,” Cassie said with a roll of her eyes.

“Hah,” Victoire said, “Your Dad practically raised you on his own Cass; I guess we know why she always favoured Scorp now, though.”

“Yeah cause I’m not actually her daughter,” Cassie said, there were bitter undertones in her voice.

“Are you okay with all of this?” Jessica asked cautiously as she too got up from bed with Victoire following her lead.

“I’m fine,” Cassie said honestly, “I’m glad it came out now,” she admitted as she smiled, “And right now nothing can get me down, I’m about to marry Teddy!”

Victoire squealed, “I know! Can you believe it? You’re marrying the guy you’ve been dating since 6th year.”

Cassie’s grin was huge as she let the girls help her into her dress; it was a beautiful white dress with lace arms and a lace underskirt, “I’m so excited, but so scared at the same time,” she admitted.

Victoire smiled at her and said, “Cass, you’re marrying the man of your dreams; what do you have to be afraid of?”

* * *

Draco Malfoy’s heart was beating faster than usual as he stood at the front of the church; Astoria was on one side of him, she was there for Cassie’s sake, not his, that much was clear. They’d gotten together shortly after Draco’s return to England and he’d still been very much in pain, his marriage to Astoria had been fast, and he’d regretted it. They’d had a few happy years, but there were lots of arguments, and eventually, Astoria decided she’d had enough of being second best to a ghost.

On Draco’s other side stood the closest thing Teddy had to famil - his Godfather, Harry, who had raised him with his wife, Ginny. Shortly after the war, Andromeda had passed away. Harry had been looking after Teddy since his Godson was two years old. Harry had been one of the few people present when Hermione died, and for that reason, he and Draco had connected and had kept a bond since that fateful day.

As a result, Teddy and Cassie had seen a lot of each other growing up; Cassie was a year younger than Teddy so they’d never been in the same year at school. Cassie, Draco knew, had a crush on Teddy since she was in 4th year, but Teddy eventually got the guts to ask her out in her 6th year. Draco had wondered if it would last, but here they were nearly ten years later, and he was standing in the church where his daughter was about to be married.

“Draco,” Harry said quietly, gently placing his hand on Draco’s shoulder, “Are you ready for this?”

“I have to be,” Draco replied simply.

Harry smiled, “Just try not to cry, yeah?”

Draco scoffed and didn’t catch Harry’s eye as he said, ‘Come on Potter, you know I don’t cry.”

Harry grinned as Draco hurried up the aisle to meet Cassie outside the doors and walk her down the aisle, but he knew this to be incorrect. He’d seen Draco cry twice, once in their 6th year when they’d duelled in the bathroom and the second time was when the love of his life died on the day that his baby girl was born. Harry had cried as much as Draco had that day, and after something like that, they couldn’t go back to hating each other.

Harry glanced up to the alter where Teddy looked extremely nervous. He’d decided when he was about 14 that the look he liked best was blonde hair, a little bit spiky, and dark blue eyes, it was funny because he looked rather like Draco today with his blonde hair smoothed back. Next to Teddy was his best man who was his best friend and practically his brother, James.

Teddy was a Lupin, but he’d been brought up as a Potter, he was brought up with James, Albus and Lily and naturally, that was why James and Al were amongst his three groomsmen. Harry hadn’t been surprised when he asked Scorpius to be his third, Al and Scorp had been friends since they both became Slytherins at the age of 11 and as a result, Teddy knew Scorpius as well as George had known Harry.

The doors to the church opened, and Harry saw Teddy swallow hard. He caught Harry’s eye as if desperately begging for some last-minute advice, Harry smiled and looked deep into his Godson’s eyes, he’d taught him legilimency which came in handy at times like this.

_“Breath Ted, you’re not allowed to stop breathing until Draco lifts the veil.”_

Teddy grinned, and gave his Godfather a subtle thumbs up; Harry winked at him and stood with everyone else to watch the bride walk down the aisle.

Cassie looked fantastic, her dark brown curls were pinned up, and her lace veil covered her face, but her huge smile was easy to see beneath it. Harry felt a lump come to his throat when he saw the pink flower earrings Hermione had worn to the Yule Ball so many years ago glittering on Cassie’s ears. In those earrings and with her hair pinned up like that she couldn’t have looked more like Hermione and Harry found he missed his best friend more than ever.

Draco looked both proud and scared as he walked down the aisle with his arm in Cassie’s. Behind them Victoire held Cassie’s train, as close as she was with Jessica, Cassie’s best friend had always been Victoire.

Although Victoire was a Slytherin and Cassie was a Ravenclaw they’d hit it off straight away. Harry remembered the only time they’d ever fought, they’d both had a crush on Teddy in their 5th year and when Teddy asked Cassie to Hogsmeade and not Victoire they hadn’t talked in a month even though Cassie had said no because she knew how much Victoire liked him. They made up eventually, Harry had needed to shout at them a little and knock some sense into them, but it had turned out for the best because Cassie was about to get married and Victoire was very happy with Oliver Wood’s son, Jack, who had been in their year at school.

Victoire was wearing a pale blue dress and had her blonde her pinned up in the same style as Cassie. Walking a little behind Victoire on her right and left-hand side were Jessica and Lily. They were complete opposites, both wearing the same pale blue dresses. The blue worked well for them both, Jess with her long dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, and Lily with her wavy red hair and eyes that were somewhere between green and blue. They both had their hair pinned up and were holding bouquets.

Behind them Roxanne skipped down the aisle, her black hair left down and falling around her shoulders. She looked adorable in a pale blue dress with a dark blue bow around it. A little behind Roxanne her big brother Fred carefully walked down the aisle as he held tightly onto the pillow that had two rings placed atop it.

As the group reached the altar, they fanned out and took their places. All but Cassie and Draco, Harry had good hearing, and he strained to hear what was being said as Draco lifted Cassie’s veil.

“You have no idea how proud your mother would be today Cass,” Draco said, and there was something in the way he said it which broke Harry’s heart all over again.

Draco then took Cassie’s hand, led her over to Teddy and placed her hand in his. He kissed his daughter on the cheek, whispered “Good luck” and took his seat next to Harry, who noticed that the Slytherin was shaking slightly.

They watched in silence as Cassie and Teddy held hands and looked at each other. They watched as they exchanged vows, Harry was trying not to cry himself, and he’d caught Draco wiping his eyes more than once. It came to that point, the point Harry knew would break Draco apart the most.

“Do you Cassiopeia Narcissa Malfoy, take Edward Remus Lupin as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Cassie smiled, no hesitation in her voice, “I do.”

“And do you, Edward Remus Lupin take Cassiopeia Narcissa Malfoy, as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” Teddy said, grinning at his new wife.

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said, and Teddy wasted no time in leaning over and capturing Cassie’s lips in a kiss. Everyone cheered and whistled as they kissed, Cassie’s cheeks were pink with embarrassment and joy when they broke apart and walked down the aisle hand in hand amidst applause.

“Mrs Cassiopeia Lupin,” Harry said, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it, he patted Draco on the back and left the church with everyone else, to make their way back to Malfoy Manor for the reception.

Draco didn’t feel quite ready to leave yet; he was still crying a little as he leant back against the wooden bench and took a deep breath; it was then that he felt it.

He felt Hermione, he could smell her, it was like she was sitting right next to him, but when he opened his eyes he saw nothing, he just felt the overwhelming smell and sense of her then a whisper, so soft that later in life, he would wonder if he had imagined it.

“ _Thank you.’_

**_The End._ **


	7. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gives his son some relationship advice after his first fight with his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this quote:  
> “Everyone deserves a second chance but not for the same mistake.”

When Scorpius Malfoy, now a fully grown man who had moved out of the family home, stormed back into it uttering some very creative curses, his father knew something was wrong.

Draco raised an eyebrow at his son as he barged into the kitchen, “She’s a nightmare Dad! I don’t know why I put up with her!”

Draco tried to hide the half-smile that slipped onto his face at his son’s words, “I do believe that you put up with her because you love her. What has she done this time to infuriate you so much?”

“She’s selfish,” Scorpius fumed, “I love her, but she’s so selfish. I don’t know if it’s a Gryffindor thing or a Weasley thing.”

“A bit of both, I expect,” Draco said honestly, “But Gryffindors tend to be more arrogant and stubborn than selfish. It’s more of a Slytherin trait.”

Scorpius scoffed, “You aren’t selfish.”

“I was,” Draco said, “And Merlin knows your mother is.”

Scorpius snorted in amusement, “Well, there are Slytherins, and then there is Mother.”

Draco chuckled, “Why is Rose selfish? What happened between you two?”

Scorpius shook his head and filled the kettle with water, “I’ll explain over coffee. Do you want one?”

Draco nodded and watched his son with interest, “I did tell you arguments would happen if you moved in together. Living together makes or breaks a relationship, you know.”

“I know, and this isn’t a break-up,” Scorpius assured him, “Just a fight that started over something stupid. I was already annoyed with Rose because she decided she was going to this rally for creature’s rights even though it would be dangerous. You know the people against it are brutal, and I didn’t want her getting hurt.”

Draco nodded, “And let me guess, she didn’t take you telling her that you didn’t want her to go very well?”

“Exactly!” Scorpius exclaimed.

Draco smiled, “Just like her mother then. Is that the whole reason you’re angry?”

“Well, not exactly,” Scorpius admitted.

“Things were a bit frosty because of that disagreement then Alaric called Lexa a mudblood in front of us and Rose, of course, kicked off, but because I didn’t hear what happened over the noise of the party I didn’t say anything to defend Lexa. So that combined with the fact that Alaric is my friend made Rose blow up at me over nothing.”

“Your best friend calling her best friend such a derogatory word is hardly nothing, Scorpius,” Draco said darkly, “Especially knowing who Rose is.”

“Who she is?” Scorpius frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Draco sighed, “Sit down and drink your coffee. Let me explain.”

Scorpius obliged, sitting opposite his father at the kitchen table. They both held their mugs of coffee as Draco explained his comment, “Rose may be a Weasley, but the family name comes from her father’s side. The Weasley’s were considered blood traitors for a long time, but what the family sacrificed in the war gained them status and riches again.”

Scorpius nodded, “I know, but the term mudblood refers to a muggle-born, not a blood traitor.”

“You don’t know your future wife very well, Scorpius,” Draco said with a pointed look, “If you did, you would know who her mother is.”

“Hermione?” Scorpius frowned, “I know her very well, I’ve known her for years. She’s a war heroine, the best friend of the man who saved our world. I did grow up with Rose and Al, and I know all about their parents.”

Draco shook his head, “Hermione’s maiden name was Granger. What do you know about that?”

“Nothing, it’s not a family name I’ve ever heard of,” Scorpius replied.

“That’s because it’s a Muggle name,” Draco said, looking his son in the eye, “She’s a muggle-born Scorpius and up until her sacrifices in the war that was all the world cared about. They didn’t see a brave, beautiful, kind, intelligent young woman. They discredited her achievements because they didn’t understand that a muggle-born could excel beyond the purebloods she studied with.”

Scorpius’s frown deepened, “I never knew that.”

“Well, I expect Rose doesn’t know most of what I just told you,” Draco said honestly, “But she will know that her mother has a scar. One inflicted during the war; it spells out exactly what she is into her skin.”

Scorpius looked disgusted, “That’s horrific! What kind of sick bastard would do that?”

Draco’s eyes flashed, “The kind I have tried to distance myself from all of my life. You never had the misfortune of knowing your Great Aunt Bellatrix who physically put that mark there. But you have seen me fight to keep your Grandfather out of your life and it was because of things like that. I can’t say that I’m entirely blameless though, I was there when it happened, and I did nothing.”

“Nothing?” Scorpius asked angrily.

“I am many things Scorpius, but brave is not one of them,” Draco said softly, “I never pretended to be brave, I fully accept that I’m a coward. But back then, I was the most afraid that I had ever been. I just want to make sure that you don’t make a mistake, one that I remember all too well.”

Scorpius’s frown had deepened, “What do you mean?”

“Rose may be a Weasley in name,” Draco said, “But she is a Granger in nature. She is loving and kind and willing to forgive. If she is as much like her mother as I have always presumed, then she will give you a second chance. You see, everyone deserves a second chance, but not for the same mistake.”

Scorpius caught his father’s eye, “What was your mistake?”

“I called her…the word that I now hate to use,” Draco said, “And I did it more than once. Had I said it once and apologised, we might have become friends. But no one will keep giving you second chances for the same mistake, especially not someone like Rose.”

“Merlin, you aren’t telling me you were in love with Rose’s mother, are you?”

Draco shook his head, “No, I didn’t understand what love was back then. In fact, I don’t think I was capable of love until the moment I held you in my arms. I was fond of Rose’s mother, and I regret the way I treated her.”

Scorpius nodded slowly, “Wow, Dad, I never knew that.”

Draco smiled slightly, “Well, you do now. I knew from the moment you told me that you and Rose were together that this would have to come out one day.”

Scorpius got to his feet and smiled, “Your message has been heard loud and clear. I’m going to go back to the flat, fall to my knees and grovel.”

Draco chuckled and patted his son on the back, “Good luck with that.”

Scorpius gave his Dad a brief hug, “Thanks Dad,” he murmured before pulling away and marching from the house with determination in every stride.

**THE END.**


	8. The Smell of Apples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione smells amortentia and makes the mistake of saying what she smells out loud. The rest of the week progresses rather strangely...

The morning began as any other morning did for Hermione Granger. She got up, then got dressed and grabbed a book. Then she sat in the great hall and read said book while simultaneously eating breakfast and nodding thoughtfully at whatever Harry and Ron were saying to her.

Things began to get odd, however in potions class. Professor Slughorn had them identifying potions, and Hermione was in her element because she knew what all of them were. She was chapping at the bit to show off just how much she knew about potions so when asked what one of them was her hand shot up and she spouted off an overly long and in-depth explanation as only Hermione could.

“Amortentia. It’s the most powerful love potion in the world…it’s supposed to smell differently to each person based on what attracts them…for example, I smell apples, and parchment and French cologne…”

She trailed off with a bemused expression on her face, Ron was staring at her with narrow eyes and Harry, as usual, wasn’t paying attention. Hermione put this to the back of her mind and got on with the class. Who smelled of French cologne? Certainly not Ron, or Harry. Perhaps Viktor?

Hermione didn’t connect the dots until the end of class when a blonde Slytherin smirked as she walked past her on the way out of the door. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the girl, she was a Greengrass, but Hermione didn’t know her first name.

“Watch out,” The Greengrass girl whispered, “His Father might hear about this.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as Greengrass winked at her and walked away. The smell of apples, parchment and French cologne belonged to one person…Draco Malfoy.

After that, Hermione’s day got weird. At lunch, Draco Malfoy stared at her, and Ron glared at Hermione.

“Hermione, Malfoy is staring at you.”

“No, he isn’t,” Hermione said casually, she could feel Malfoy’s eyes on the back of her neck, but she remained calm and collected.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Malfoy’s staring at Hermione.”

Harry pulled his eyes away from Ginny, who was flirting with Dean further down the table, “What?”

“Malfoy’s staring at Hermione,” Ron said, sounding irritated.

Harry looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy talking quite casually to Theodore Nott, “No, he isn’t.”

“Well, he was 2 seconds ago!” Ron said, his ears going red.

“Right,” Harry said, looking back to Ginny once more.

Hermione sniggered slightly at Harry’s behaviour then she felt Malfoy’s eyes on the back of her neck once more. She rolled her eyes; this could get incredibly irritating if he kept it up.

Malfoy continued to stare at Hermione at dinner, and it was now beginning to unnerve her slightly. So far, she had avoided meeting his gaze, but she wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer if he continued to stare at her _all the frigging time_.

“Hermione,” Ron practically growled, “Malfoy is staring at you, _again_.”

“No, he isn’t Ron,” Hermione said, her temper a little short at the moment.

“Harry!” Ron snapped, “Look! He’s staring at Hermione again!”

Harry looked up, and across the hall, at the Slytherin table, he saw Malfoy engaged in conversation with Blaise Zabini, “No Ron, he isn’t. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine!” Ron snapped, stabbing a sausage on his plate violently.

The following morning at breakfast, Hermione accidentally caught Malfoy’s eye, and he winked at her. Completely flustered, she sat down at the Gryffindor table and stared resolutely at the wall.

“Malfoy is staring at you, Hermione,” Ginny said with a grin as she slipped in next to her.

“I know,” Hermione muttered, “Has he stopped yet?”

Ginny turned around and caught Malfoy smirking, “Nope,” she said as she turned back to Hermione.

Hermione groaned.

“Why exactly is Malfoy staring at you?” Ginny asked in amusement.

“I accidentally told him I find him attractive, or his smell at least,” Hermione said, wanting to hit her head off of the table very badly.

“That wasn’t very clever,” Ginny said with a smirk.

“I couldn’t help it, I gave an overly in-depth answer about Amortentia,” Hermione said, her cheeks very pink.

Ginny grinned, “And it smells like what, to you exactly?”

“Parchment…apples…and French cologne,” Hermione mumbled.

Ginny laughed, “Definitely Malfoy.”

“And he bloody well knows it,” Hermione said as Ron sat down across from them.

“Oh for crying out loud!” Ron exclaimed, “Hermione, Malfoy’s staring at you _again!_ ”

Ginny turned around, “No Ron…he’s talking to Daphne Greengrass…”

“Well, he was a… Oh, never bloody mind!” Ron huffed.

Ginny sniggered and smirked in Harry’s direction, Harry blushed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. She turned around very briefly and caught Malfoy give her a suggestive look, thankfully Ron didn’t see.

* * *

At lunch, Malfoy was staring at her yet again, and this time it was starting to get on Hermione’s nerves. She got to her feet and stalked over to the Slytherin table, Malfoy following her with his eyes as she did so.

“Would you stop bloody staring at me, Malfoy!” Hermione exclaimed, crossing her arms when she reached him.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, “I have no idea what you are talking about, Granger.”

“You bloody well do,” Hermione raged, “And it’s getting really irritating now!”

Malfoy smirked at her as he picked up and apple and bit into it. Hermione practically growled in frustration and stormed out of the great hall.

Ron had watched this exchange in disbelief, “Harry! Harry, look Hermione’s talking to Malfoy!”

Harry looked up but saw Hermione leaving the hall, and Malfoy eating an apple, “No, she isn’t.”

“Well, she was! That’s why she’s leaving!” Ron exclaimed.

“Ron, have you hit your head?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Yeah, Ron,” Ginny said, “You look a little pale, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine!” Ron shouted as he got to his feet and left the hall.

* * *

At dinner, Hermione hoped Malfoy would give up his whole staring thing because it was getting irritating. As she walked into the great hall, he talked to Blaise Zabini very loudly about how his mother was sending him some of that French cologne he loved so much. She growled under her breath as she sat down heavily at the Gryffindor table.

“Where have you been all day, Hermione?” Ron asked her with a frown.

“In the library,” Hermione replied, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling, _oh come on!_

“Alone?” Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Hermione glared at him, “I _was_ alone, but it’s none of your business anyway!”

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, “You’re in a bad mood today.”

_Well, maybe if Malfoy would stop staring at me!_ Hermione thought to herself, she turned around to see him grinning at her, and his smugness was now really beginning to get on her nerves.

She had a sudden urge to punch him in the face, just like third year. She repressed it though and tried to eat dinner, but with Malfoy staring at her throughout her whole meal, she didn’t eat much, and after about 10 minutes she got to her feet.

Ron narrowed his eyes at her, “Where are you going?’

“To do something I should have done a long time ago,” Hermione muttered as she walked towards the Slytherin table.

“Harry!” Ron said, turning around to find that his best friend had vanished, “What the…”

Hermione reached the Slytherin table, raising an eyebrow at Malfoy when she approached him, “Are you going to stop, or am I going to have to punch you in the face again?”

Greengrass choked on her food from laughing, “She really punched you? I thought you said Crabbe and Goyle just made that up!”

“I really punched him, and if you watch closely I’m gonna do it again in a second,” Hermione growled.

Malfoy stood up and at his full height was quite a bit taller than her, “You wouldn’t punch me, Granger. You don’t want to mess up this face you find so attractive after all, do you?”

Hermione glared at him, “I never said I found you attractive, Malfoy.”

“Not directly anyway,” Malfoy said smoothly, “Maybe we should test this…attraction.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as he moved closer to her and Greengrass whistled.

“What are you doing?” She asked suspiciously.

“Testing it,” Malfoy whispered as he got about as close as he could to her and kissed her.

“HARRY!”

Ron shouted as he rushed down to the other end of the Gryffindor table, where Harry was talking to Ginny. Why was he so interested in his little sister all of a sudden anyway?

Harry looked up, “Oh, hey Ron.”

* * *

**_Meanwhile…_ **

Hermione broke the kiss, and glared at Malfoy, “You are despicable!” she said, slapping him across the face and storming from the great hall…

“HARRY! HERMIONE IS KISSING MALFOY!”

Harry looked across the hall. He frowned, “Ron, Malfoys just sitting there minding his own business.”

Ron spun around; his jaw dropped, ‘But…he…I…’

“Come on, Ron,” Harry said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door.

Ginny nodded, taking Ron’s other arm, “We’re taking you to the hospital wing.”

“No!” Ron exclaimed as they dragged him from the room, “They really did kiss! It happened! I’m not insane, I’m not!”

**_The End!_ **


	9. The Lucky Ones - I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy have just graduated from Hogwarts and are having dinner with their parents. As expected, it doesn't go well...

“Do you really think it will be okay?” Rose Weasley asked in an undertone as she sat on a boat crossing the Black Lake. She was wearing black robes and her black hat; she had just graduated from Hogwarts.

Scorpius Malfoy smiled at her, “It will be fine,” he said calmly.

“But my dad hates yours,” Rose said, biting her lip.

“As kids yeah,” Scorpius agreed, “But they’re both men now, they aren’t going to hold old grudges.”

“You’d be surprised,” Rose said, thinking about her father and how he did hold grudges for a ridiculously long time.

“Stop worrying Rose,” Scorpius said, leaning over and kissing her, “It will be fine, I promise.”

Rose nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. Tonight was the first time her parents and Scorpius’s parents were meeting since they had started dating almost a year ago.

* * *

“Dad, promise not to be mean,” Rose begged as she and her parents got ready to apparate to Malfoy Manor.

“Don’t worry Rose,” Hermione said with a smile, “I’ve warned your father to be on his best behaviour.”

“I’ve come to terms with you dating a Malfoy,” Ron said, wrinkling his nose at the word Malfoy, “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to treat his dad like he’s my best friend.”

“Stop being immature, Ron,” Hermione said with a dark look at her husband, “If anyone has a reason for not wanting to go to Malfoy Manor tonight it isn’t you.”

Rose didn’t understand this comment, but she didn’t ask - that dark look in her mother's eyes meant that it had something to do with the war, and unless they could help it, her parents didn’t talk about the war.

Hermione put her hand on Rose’s shoulder and said, “Ready when you are sweetheart.”

Rose nodded and spun on her heel. She had passed her apparition test the first time, but she still hated it. Her parents followed, and Rose took a deep breath as she walked through the gates and started to make her way up the path.

Ron slipped his hand into Hermione’s as they looked up at the white manor house, it brought back horrible memories, and Ron could see the haunted look in Hermione’s eyes. She pulled the long sleeves of her dress further down her arm, making sure her scar was covered.

Ron sighed, he hated that Rose was dating the son of the man who had done this to Hermione, he knew it had been Draco’s aunt, but Ron still held the man responsible for the scars that she was so self-conscious about.

Rose got to the door and knocked with the large serpent-faced knocker. In seconds it opened, and Scorpius grinned at his girlfriend and her parents, “Hi,” he said as he opened the door wider, “Come in.”

Ron and Hermione followed Rose into the house; the entrance hall was familiar in a horrible way. Standing slightly awkwardly in the entrance hall, and looking very nervous were Draco and Astoria Malfoy.

Draco stepped forward first and held out his hand to Ron, “School grudges should be forgotten. After all, we are men now.”

Ron gave a stiff nod and shook Draco’s hand.

Hermione smiled at the man and shook his hand, “It’s nice to see you,” she said, and he smiled and nodded. It was easier for them; they worked in similar departments, so they occasionally made small talk at work. Ron hadn’t seen Draco since the final battle.

“This is my wife, Astoria,” Draco said to Ron and Hermione, and the woman stepped forward and shook both of their hands. She was gorgeous, with pale skin, blue eyes and dark hair.

“We’re eating in the informal dining room tonight,” Draco said, leading the group to a door to the left of the entrance hall, “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to eat in the formal dining hall after…”

He trailed off. Still, Hermione nodded, “Thank you, Draco, that’s very considerate of you.”

“It was Astoria’s idea, actually,” Draco said, smiling at his wife who nodded, she seemed kind of shy.

They sat down at the table - Rose and Scorpius next to each other, Ron and Hermione opposite them and Draco and Astoria at the heads and foot of the table.

As the first course was served, nobody said anything, and the air was extremely awkward.

“So,” Hermione said, intending to create small talk, “Where do you work Astoria?”

“Oh,” Astoria said, surprised that Hermione was talking to her, “I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I’m that annoying person who writes out the underage magic letters.”

Hermione chuckled and said, “My son, Hugo, knows them well. I think he got two in his 1st year.”

“Scorpius was just as bad,” Draco said, glancing at his son who grinned guiltily, “If it weren’t for the fact his mother worked in the department he’d have been kicked out of Hogwarts.”

Rose smiled at Scorpius; he was slightly rebellious, one of the reasons she loved him and one of the reasons her father disapproved so much.

“How is work, Hermione?” Draco asked, again attempting to make small talk.

“Oh, it’s not bad,” Hermione replied, “Thanks to your new experimental drug for dragon pox our clinical trial is going great.”

“That’s fantastic,” Draco said happily, they worked side by side sometimes, with Hermione working as a healer in experimental methods and Draco leading the Department of Experimental Potions.

“So, what do you want to do Rose? Now that school is over?” Draco asked, kindly, but also because he was curious.

Rose smiled a little sheepishly, “I’d quite like to go into the experimental potions business actually.”

“Really?” Draco asked with a smile, “That’s fantastic. I suppose given that you have gotten O’s for everything in Potions according to Scorp, that makes sense.”

Rose nodded, and Draco continued, “I can put a good word in for you at the department, maybe get you a starter job as a junior researcher.”

Rose opened her mouth to say that she would love that, but her father got there first.

“Stop trying to get in my daughter's good books,” Ron said angrily, “You’re only trying to get her a job so she likes you, and I don’t even know why you’re bothering to do that. We both know you don’t want this relationship to last. You don’t want your precious heir marrying a blood traitor.”

“Ron!” Hermione retorted, “Don’t talk about our daughter like that!”

“Well, she is!” Ron shouted, “She’s the daughter of a blood traitor and a muggle-born, she couldn’t get much lower unless she _was_ a muggle-born! He doesn’t want her and Scorpius to get married!”

Rose looked close to tears, and Hermione glared at Ron, “Well then I’m the lowest of the low, am I?”

“I wasn’t-” Ron floundered, “I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did,” Hermione said coolly.

“And I wasn’t trying to get in her good books,” Draco said calmly, “I’d just like to help her get started in an industry that’s difficult to break into.”

“And for your information,” Astoria said bitterly, “We want our son to be with who makes him happy; blood doesn’t matter. All blood status does is segregate people, and that in turns brings pain. Scorpius will marry whoever he wants to marry; he will marry someone who he loves. We vowed a long time ago never to interfere with that.”

“It doesn’t matter if that person is a pureblood, half-blood, blood traitor, muggle-born or something completely different,” Draco agreed, “The only person who seems to think that matters is you.”

Ron shook his head in annoyance, “You’re lying,” he accused, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not buying it.”

“Why can’t you accept that we want our son to be happy? The war was a long time ago. Why can’t you just forget?” Astoria asked, frustrated at Ron’s behaviour.

“Forget?” Ron asked angrily, “Forget what exactly? Forget what happened in this house, for example? Well, I’m _sorry_ that I can’t forget the fact you tortured my wife!” he bellowed at Draco.

“That you’re the reason for a scar on her arm telling her every time she looks down she’s a mudblood! I’m sorry if I can’t forget her screams of agony while I was locked in your fucking basement! I don’t want my daughter to marry your son, and I don’t want her to become a Malfoy, because I hate everything you stand for! The war might have been a long time ago, but the scars are still there!”

“Ron, enough!” Hermione said loudly, “ _I’m_ here, I’m comfortable, and _you_ are the one whose shouting and acting like an idiot. If I can forgive Draco, then you sure as hell can. _He_ didn’t torture me, his aunt did, and he didn’t just stand by and watch. You weren’t there; you didn’t see his father restraining him! He was a victim of the war just as much as we were, imagine your family forcing you to obey an evil man, forcing you to join him, join him or die! At least you had a choice, Draco never had a choice!”

“Whose side are you on? Your husband’s or that bastards?” Ron asked bitterly.

Hermione gave her husband a stern glare, “At this point, Draco’s because he’s the person who isn’t acting like a teenager.”

Ron didn’t say anything, and Scorpius shook his head angrily. He pushed his chair back so that it fell with an almighty crash and said, “Do I know anything about my family? You didn’t tell me anything about the fact my girlfriend's mother was tortured in my own house! What else don’t I know?”

He stormed from the room, and as the door slammed behind him, Rose burst into tears and ran out of the room.

Astoria got to her feet, but Draco shook his head and said, £I’ll talk to him, he needs to hear it from me.”

Astoria gave a small nod, and Draco left the room.

At the same time that this occurrence was happening, Hermione had gotten to her feet and glared at Ron, “You caused this, I’ll deal with the consequences. After all, that’s the way things have always been between us.”

“Hermione-”

“Ron breaks it, Hermione fixes it,” Hermione said coolly, “Isn’t that what Harry and Ginny always say?”

With this, she left to go and find Rose.

* * *

Draco knew where his son would be. He jogged up the stairs to the first floor where Scorpius’s bedroom was. He paused and heard his son moving around in the room; he knocked on the door.

“If that’s you, Mother, I don’t want to talk to you,” Scorpius said bitterly through the door.

“It’s me Scorp,” Draco said softly, and after a moment the lock on the door clicked, and Draco smiled. He had a bond with his son that Astoria could never equal or get a grasp on.

He pushed the door open and walked in, Scorpius was sitting on his bed, looking extremely unhappy.

“Hey,” Scorpius said miserably as his father sat down next to him on the bed.

“Want to talk about it?” Draco asked, trying not to push his son.

Scorpius nodded, and Draco sighed, he wondered if he might have to have this conversation with his son ever since Scorpius had come home at Christmas and told him that he was dating a Gryffindor girl called Rose.

* * *

Hermione couldn’t contain her anger with Ron when she left the dining room. She wasn’t sure where Rose might have gone, and she saw Draco’s feet disappearing at the top of the staircase.

She paused for a moment to catch her breath; she didn’t want Rose to see her upset. She surveyed the entrance hall and saw a door ajar across the hall.

As Hermione crossed the hall, she bit her lip. She had wondered if she might need to have a talk with her daughter about her past. Ever since Rose had written to her about Scorpius asking her out, Hermione had thought about it, but she had never said anything to Ron.

She sighed as she walked through the door into the library where Rose was curled up on a sofa.

“Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” Hermione asked quietly.

Rose still jumped, she obviously hadn’t heard Hermione come through the door.

Rose turned around; her eyes were bluer than usual because she’d been crying, she nodded at her mother, so Hermione pushed the door shut and sat down with her daughter on the sofa.

* * *

“Scorp, when I went to school…well I wasn’t a good person, and your grandfather was part of the reason for that. He told me that muggle-borns were dirty and impure,” Draco explained, “And I met a girl when I arrived at Hogwarts, who was a muggle-born.”

“And you were horrible to her?” Scorpius guessed.

“Yeah, I was,” Draco admitted sadly, “But I liked her. She was smart and so witty and sassy that it was funny. And as she grew up, it got harder to bully her for her looks because she became so beautiful.”

“What’s the point of this story?” Scorpius asked, and Draco sighed, “You’ll see if you just listen.”

“I went through Hogwarts as a Slytherin jack-ass,” Draco told his son who snickered and said, “I can believe that.”

Draco smiled slightly, he would usually have told Scorpius off, but not today, “And she was a fantastic person who rightly never wanted anything to do with me…”

* * *

“He was horrible to me when I was at Hogwarts,” Hermione said to her daughter, who she already had enthralled with the start of her story about a Slytherin boy.

“Why?” Rose asked as she sat with her legs crossed, watching her mother with interest.

“Well, things were much more complicated then, as I’m sure you know. Slytherins were all purebloods, and he looked down on me because I was a muggle-born,” Hermione explained, “But it wasn’t really his opinion, it was the opinion that was forced on him by his family.”

Rose nodded, “But you didn’t end up together because Dad was in Gryffindor.”

“We didn’t end up together,” Hermione agreed, “The war made things completely different for everyone. I went off to fight with Dad and Uncle Harry, and he was on the other side, working for the man we were trying to bring down.”

“So what did you do?” Rose asked, intrigued by this romance she had known nothing about.

“Well I forgot about it while I was fighting, there were so many more things to worry about then,” Hermione said, trying not to get lost in the bad memories from the war.

“But we came into contact once, and I could see the pain he was in, I could see that he wasn’t happy and I felt sorry for him.”

“But he didn’t switch sides?” Rose asked, and Hermione shook her head.

* * *

“Why didn’t you just switch sides?” Scorpius asked, frowning at his father, “If you loved her, then you should have just helped the light.”

“It wasn’t that simple Scorp,” Draco said sadly, “Looking back for you, it’s easy to say that, but you weren’t there.”

“So what did you do then?” Scorpius asked.

Draco replied, “Well, I couldn’t do anything. If I tried to run away, the Dark Lord would have killed me. If I had joined the light, he would have killed me.”

“So you just did nothing? You just let people die?”

“Yes,” Draco replied, his voice breaking a little, “I did Scorpius, and I still regret it every day of my life.”

Seeing his father this way seemed to shut Scorpius up. He looked at Draco in surprise and got another shock when he saw that he was close to tears.

“Sorry,” Scorpius said, feeling instantly guilty.

Draco shook his head, “Don’t apologise; just try and understand how it felt back then.”

Scorpius nodded and let his father continue.

“I saved her life in the final battle, and I don’t think she even noticed…a Death Eater was on his way towards her, and I stunned him,” Draco said, his eyes were far away.

* * *

“We saved his life twice,” Hermione said to her daughter, “Even though Dad and Uncle Harry didn’t like him much. We saved him twice, and I’m so glad we did.”

“What happened to him after the war?” Rose asked.

“He became a good person,” Hermione said with a smile, “He’s a good person today.”

“Did you ever tell him how you felt?” Rose asked with wide eyes.

“I did,” Hermione said honestly, “When the war was over, I needed to go and find your grandparents.”

“Because you had obliviated them to save them,” Rose said with a vague nod, she had heard this story.

“I went to Australia because that’s where I had sent them,” Hermione explained to her daughter, “And I didn’t know how long it would take me to find them there, so I left at the start of the summer.”

“Were you and Dad together then?” Rose asked.

Hermione shook her head, “No, Uncle Fred had just died, and we all needed some time to let the dust settle. Your Dad and I didn’t start dating until a few months later.”

“So, what happened in Australia?”

“Well, I went to find my parents, and I found him instead…”

* * *

“Why were you in Australia?” Scorpius asked in surprise.

“After the war, I just wanted to get away from the world,” Draco admitted to his son, “I wanted to get away from your grandfather because he was in the middle of a trial.”

“Is that when he got sent to Azkaban?” Scorpius asked. He had never known his grandfather on his Father’s side.

Draco nodded, it was still painful to think about his father, “It was, and your grandmother was upset, so I decided to go to Australia because one of my friends who died in the war had family there.”

“So you met her in Australia?”

“Yes, she was looking for her parents, she sent them there to keep them safe,” Draco replied, again lost in memories.

“And we ended up meeting one night in a bar in Sydney,” He smiled as he recounted the story, “Without her friends there to tell me I was an arse, and without my family to tell me she was impure we realised we were quite alike.”

* * *

“So, what happened?” Rose asked eagerly.

“Well, he helped me find my parents,” Hermione said with a smile, “And I started falling in love with him.”

“What went wrong? Why did you come home and marry Dad?” Rose asked with a frown.

“Well, it was complicated back then, Rose. The world we knew and loved would never have accepted us.”

“They wouldn’t have accepted you because he was a Slytherin?” Rose asked, surprised and horrified by this.

* * *

“No,” Draco said as he stared out of Scorpius’s window, he was far away in his thoughts. Still, he turned back to his intrigued son, “It was because she was a war heroine, and I was a former Death Eater who had shirked punishment. My family had fallen from grace, and she was the golden girl.”

“So nothing happened?”

“No, well, we had a summer romance, and then we went our separate ways and came back to England,” Draco said, nearing the end of his story.

“And you married Mum,” Scorpius said.

Draco nodded once more.

“But you still love the Gryffindor girl, don’t you?”

* * *

“Yes, I think a part of me will always love him,” Hermione told her daughter, “But that doesn’t mean I love your father any less.”

“I understand, Mum,” Rose said, and she did - she was old enough now.

“I guess what I’m trying to get across to you Rose, is don’t listen to anything your father says. If you love Scorpius and he makes you happy then be with him, and be happy…”

* * *

“Because I never got that chance, and I wish I had,” Draco said sincerely, “So I want you and Rose to be as happy as you can be.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Scorpius said after a moment of silence.

After much deliberation, he hugged Draco, who smiled as he wrapped his arms around his now-adult son.

“Don’t worry about it, now on you go, get back into the dining room and apologise to your mother,” Draco said, ruffling his son's hair.

“Ugh Dad, don’t treat me like I’m five,” Scorpius joked as he escaped from his Fathers grasp and left the room.

Draco smiled after his son and followed him down the stairs a few seconds later.

* * *

“Now come on,” Hermione said as she stood from the sofa, “We had better go and apologise to your father.”

“Why do you need to apologise?” Rose asked as she too got to her feet.

“I was a little rude to him after you left,” Hermione said with a sheepish smile.

“Did you lose your temper at him again?” Rose asked in amusement.

Hermione chuckled, “Slightly.”

Rose laughed and headed back to the dining room. Hermione watched her go, leaning in the doorway for a moment. She had taken a few steps out into the entrance hall when a familiar voice stopped her.

“Hermione.”

She stopped in her tracks as he approached her.

“Draco,” she said politely.

They often talked at work, and they had even worked on projects together, but there was something different tonight, it was probably because of what they had both just talked to their children about.

“That could have been us,” Draco said thoughtfully, looking at the door to the dining room that his son and Hermione’s daughter had just gone through.

“Not unless we’d been born ten years later than we were,” Hermione said, somewhat sadly.

“Don’t you sometimes wish we had been?” Draco asked longingly.

“Sometimes,” Hermione admitted, as she watched the door to the dining room, “But we weren’t, and we can’t change that now.”

“Do you ever wish we could just go back and stay in Australia?” Draco asked Hermione, glancing at her and catching her eye, she looked torn.

“Occasionally, but I had to come back Draco. I couldn’t have stayed away from Harry…or Ron,” Hermione said, almost as is if she was convincing herself.

Draco gave a small nod.

“Are you happy with Astoria, Draco?” Hermione asked gently.

“Not as happy as I would have been with you,” Draco replied instantly, causing a faint blush to rise in Hermione’s cheeks.

“It was a marriage of convenience, Hermione, you know that,” Draco said, “I needed an heir.”

“It’s kind of sad, though,” Hermione said, glancing at Draco sympathetically.

“That’s the way pureblood marriages work,” Draco said distastefully, “Are you happy with Wea-Ron?”

Hermione shrugged and leant back against the wall, “Yes, and no, it isn’t ideal. We argue a lot, and disagree on everything.”

“And whenever you want to talk about anything intellectual you spend lunch in my office,” Draco remarked.

Hermione smiled at the truth in this comment, “Yes, but I suppose in ways, I am happy.”

“Not as happy as you could have been though,” Draco said, and Hermione agreed, but she couldn’t put that into words, so she just nodded.

“Well then I hope Scorp and Rose can have what we didn’t,” Draco said, taking Hermione’s arm and leading her towards the dining room.

“So do I,” Hermione admitted as they reached the door.

Draco dropped his hand from her arm and opened the door to the dining room.

When they walked back in, Draco and Hermione were surprised to see their other halves in an animated discussion.

“I know, everyone says that we aren’t on the up, but we’ve played better this season than we have for the last three years!”

“And it’s not like we’re last in the league!”

“Exactly!”

Draco and Hermione shared an amused smile, so apparently, Astoria was a Chudley Cannons fan.

They took their seats at the table once more, and everybody apologised.

Nobody caught the look exchanged across the table between Draco and Hermione, no one apart from Rose and Scorpius who smiled to themselves, all it did was confirm their suspicions.

**_Read on for Part II...  
_ **


	10. The Lucky Ones - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the tumultuous first dinner with the family, some time has passed and now Rose and Scorpius are getting married.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one finding this difficult.”

Hermione glanced up to where Draco Malfoy was leaning in the doorway of her office. It was well past midnight, but they often stayed late at work, especially when they were working on a big project as they were at the moment.

“Well, we are trying to find a way to reverse the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. It was never going to be easy,” Hermione replied.

“I’m not talking about the project, and you know it, Hermione,” Draco said as he walked into her office which was lit only by one small lamp on her desk.

“There is nothing we can do about it Draco, they have been together for three years now and engaged for one of those,” Hermione said logically, “A wedding was clearly on the cards.”

“I know there isn’t anything we can do about it,” Draco said as he perched on her desk, “But answer my question. Your daughter marrying my son, are _you_ finding this difficult?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied quietly.

Draco sighed, “Well, there is some small comfort in that this clearly isn’t all in my head.”

“No,” Hermione said softly, “But the fact I am finding this difficult changes nothing. You are married, and I am married, and our children are getting married in 48 hours.”

“But you have been thinking it too,” Draco whispered, “We have gotten closer again since Rose and Scorpius got together. You spend more of your lunch breaks with me than you do with your husband, you can’t tell me that is normal behaviour.”

Hermione fixed him with an anxious glance, “I’m well aware of how abnormal it is, but it’s all we have. It’s all we can have.”

“No, it isn’t,” Draco said under his breath, “We are both in unhappy marriages Hermione, our children are grown-ups now who have left Hogwarts. Why do we need to keep up false pretences?”

“I can give you so many reasons why,” Hermione said in a hushed voice as she got up and walked around her desk to talk to him, the movement made the candle get dangerously close to snuffing out.

“Then I’m listening,” Draco challenged her.

“1 - it would make the fact our children are getting married very strange. 2 - with Rose and Scorpius getting married you and I being together is just _wrong_. 3 – we’re 40 years old Draco, we’re no spring chickens. Why change things now?”

“Well I have some reasons for you,” Draco muttered, “1 - 40 isn’t that old, and you know it. 2 - we should live our lives the way we want while we can, do you really think we won’t have regrets when we die living our lives this way?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, “No, this isn't happening. You and I ended over 20 years ago for a reason. It wouldn’t have worked then, and it certainly won’t work now.”

“So you are telling me right now Hermione, that if I kiss you right here right now, you’ll be able just to walk away like it meant nothing?” Draco asked coolly.

“Yes,” Hermione replied, “Because it _won’t_ mean anything.”

Draco Malfoy, being Draco Malfoy, took that as a challenge and grabbed her face. Hermione gasped against his lips and tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let her. His lips on hers were soft and smooth, yet his touch was rough, and it brought back memories of Australia. Of that little hut, she was staying in, of the scorching summer heat and the windows all wide open to tempt in any cool air with no thoughts set aside for silencing charms because the hut was in the middle of nowhere.

That one kiss brought back a thousand memories, of their sweat-soaked bodies moving together in that hut which hadn’t had any air-con. Of those soft lips on her body, and his rough touch as he gripped her tightly. Of her moans, and his voice groaning her name, back then it had been Granger. Now it would be Hermione.

As these thoughts flashed through Hermione’s mind, she realised that she had begun to kiss Draco back. She snapped out of her reverie when he pressed her against her desk without moving his lips from hers.

“Draco,” Hermione gasped as she broke the kiss, “Are you completely stupid? The door is open! Anyway could see us!”

“It’s 3 am in the Research Department of the Ministry on a Friday night,” Draco said breathlessly, “Who’s going to be here?”

“Everyone you idiot, we’re bloody scientists,” Hermione remarked as she reached behind her and grabbed her wand from her desk. With a flick of her wand, the door snapped shut and locked. She also put up a silencing charm and then she glared at Draco.

“You can’t just _kiss_ me like that,” Hermione exclaimed.

“I thought I just did,” Draco said with a slight smirk.

“No, you don’t get to do the cocky, suave thing,” Hermione said, “We can’t do this Draco, we can’t do this to Ron, or Astoria. Or Rose and Scorpius! How awkward do you want to make this wedding?”

“Hermione,” Draco groaned, “We have got to get this out of our system before they get married.”

“Get this out of our system?” Hermione hissed, “We aren’t just shooting some targets to rid ourselves of frustration here.”

The trademark Malfoy smirk returned to his face, “No, but we _would_ be relieving frustration.”

“Malfoy!” Hermione cursed.

“Come on, when was the last time Weasley slept with you?” Draco asked knowingly.

Hermione glared at him, “That is irrelevant information.”

“Is it?” Draco asked quietly, “Because once that wedding happens, that is _it_ for us. As you said, it’s about them; it’s about _their_ lives, not ours. This is our last chance Hermione, and I won’t let you miss it because of your bloody Gryffindor moral compass!”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but she didn’t get a chance because before she could get any words out Draco”s lips crashed down on hers, and the moment they did Hermione”s objections died in her throat.

Draco cleared Hermione’s desk with one swish of his wand without breaking the kiss, and then he pushed her onto it with ease.

Hermione gasped, “You never used to be able to do wandless magic.”

Draco smirked, “It’s been over 20 years Hermione, I have learned some new tricks,” he said as his lips began to attack hers once more.

Hermione couldn’t help but grin against his lips at that, she broke the kiss momentarily, “Is that so, _Malfoy_?” she asked.

His smirk widened as he said against her neck, “I’d say wait and find out, but you never were very patient, _Granger_.”

The use of her old surname sent shivers down her spine, and any arguments for why this was wrong, oh so wrong, disappeared from her mind.

* * *

“We really shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know,” Draco said as he turned his head to look at her, “But we did.”

Hermione was staring at the roof of her office as she lay on the floor with him, they were sweating, and the room was hot because it was summer. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture that hut in Australia, and the tiny bed with the covers and the clothes spread all across the floor.

“You really have learned some new tricks,” Hermione said with a grin as she looked over at him, and despite it all, they both laughed.

“And age has not changed a thing for you, regardless of what you think,” Draco said fondly.

“Oh, I don”t know, I remember it lasting longer than that,” Hermione joked.

Draco laughed and said, “That has nothing to do with age, just 20 years of wanting you.”

“Am I that desirable?” Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Draco replied honestly, “You really are.”

Hermione gave him a sad sort of smile as reality began to crash down on them. Draco saw it, and he understood what it meant. So he sighed and asked, “Well, where do we go from here?”

“Home,” Hermione replied softly, “That’s the only place we can go, Draco. I’ll go home to Ron, and you’ll go home to Astoria. And Rose and Scorpius will get married.”

“I don’t want it to be that way,” Draco said, his grey eyes staring into hers.

“That’s just the way it has to be,” Hermione said as she pushed herself to her feet and searched the room for her various pieces of clothing. Draco was silent as she did so, and when she began to curse about not being able to find her skirt, he eventually spoke.

“Are you a witch or not? There’s this wonderful little spell called “ _Accio_ ” remember?” Draco said with a fond, but sad smile in her direction.

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed my brain is slightly foggy at the moment,” Hermione said pointedly as she used the spell, found her skirt and pulled it on. Draco, being lazy had redressed himself with one flick of his wand, that was also new.

“Shame, you have to go back to your sad, uneventful life with a husband who never sleeps with you,” Draco said bitterly.

“Don’t be like that,” Hermione practically begged, “Can’t we just remember this as one final night? As a goodbye almost? Do we have to look back on it with bitter feelings?”

“We don’t have to, but we probably will,” Draco said as he dusted himself down, funny how he hadn’t thought to use a spell to do that.

Hermione was about to respond, but then she froze and looked up at Draco, “I’ve got it!”

“What?” Draco asked sharply.

“The way to reverse the effects of the Cruciatus Curse!” Hermione exclaimed as she rummaged in her desk for parchment, “I’ve got it!”

Draco stared at her in amazement as she frantically wrote things down before they left her mind, “You haven’t changed one bit, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned, “How?” she asked without looking up at him.

“You always had your big revelations after sex,” Draco said fondly, “Has anyone ever told you that’s not normal?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and glanced up at him, “It clears my mind, alright? So in the aftermath, the first thing I think about is the project, and normally the answer breaks through the haze.”

“Yes I know how it works, you’ve told me before,” Draco said in amusement, “But…” he trailed off, and she went back to scribbling things down.

“Holy Salazar.”

“What?” Hermione asked, jumping a little as he exclaimed loudly.

“We’ve been working on this project for six months,” Draco pointed out.

“So?” Hermione asked.

“Does that mean you haven’t had sex for half a year?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah,” Hermione replied, distracted by her note-taking.

“Well that explains why you were so eager,” Draco said in amusement.

The amusement in his voice made Hermione”s head snap up.

“Didn’t you all but confirm that your marriage to Astoria was arranged and that there was no real love there?” Hermione asked in disbelief.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not having sex with her,” Draco remarked in amusement.

Hermione frowned.

Draco added, “You don’t have to love someone to shag them, Hermione. It’s just better when you do.”

“Hm,” Hermione mused.

“I do have needs, you know,” Draco remarked.

“Yes, I know all about your needs Malfoy, I just saw to them in case you’d forgotten,” Hermione said pointedly.

“You’re the one who hasn’t had sex for six months; I think I saw to your needs,” Draco said with a smirk.

Hermione glared at him then she went back to her scribbling.

“Are you done?” Draco asked in amusement at the scroll she had just scribbled out which consisted of runes, and complex equations.

“Yes, we were looking at it all wrong,” Hermione said, “We were trying to find a way to repair the nerve damage caused by the curse. But we couldn’t find any way to do it. So here’s my brainwave - we re-grow the nerves instead of repairing them, in the form of a potion, not a counter-curse.”

Draco smiled, “Brilliant; I can only find one loophole. What about the brain? Re-growing nerves in the brain will change the person’s personality; they’ll lose their memories.”

Hermione moved around the desk to him as she spoke, “Not if we extract the essence of that person and keep it in a pensieve while the nerves are re-growing.”

Draco couldn’t help it, his smile widened, “The person might lose some small aspects of themselves, but that’s nothing if we can _cure_ them.”

“Exactly!” Hermione exclaimed, and all of a sudden, she realised that she and Draco stood very close together once more, and Draco’s eyes fell on Hermione’s swollen, red lips.

He swallowed and forced them upwards to her eyes. She saw amusement flickering there and then he said, “We should have sex more often. For the sake of the human race.”

For a second Hermione looked like she was going to hit Draco, and then she laughed, “Don’t ever change Draco,” she said as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

Draco smiled, and he was about to say something else when the floo in the office whirred. When Ron emerged from the fireplace, they were still grinning excitedly.

“Why are you two so happy?” Ron asked with a frown.

“We just figured out the cure to the Cruciatus Curse!” Hermione exclaimed happily, holding up her scroll to Ron, who looked at it blankly.

“Okay, that’s great,” Ron said with a smile, “But I came here to check on you. Are you aware that it’s 4 am?”

Hermione bit her lip, “Is that the time?” she asked, and suddenly the guilt of what she and Draco had just done hit her as she stood here in her office with her _husband_.

Ron frowned, “Yep, what’s that funny smell in here?”

Hermione panicked a little, she hadn’t had time to cast cleansing charms on the office yet, and she wasn’t good at coming up with lies quickly.

Thankfully Draco saved her by gesturing towards the door that joined Hermione’s private office onto her personal lab. It was ajar, and there was some smoke coming from it from the bubbling potion she was working on at the moment.

“Oh there was a small explosion in the lab earlier,” Draco said, “It’s left a funny smell around all night. But anyway, I best be off home. I’ll see you in a couple of days for the big day.”

Hermione smiled and nodded, “Goodnight Draco,” she said with a wave as he walked towards the fireplace and disappeared into the green flames.

“I still don’t like you working with him, you know,” Ron said as Hermione grabbed her bag.

“Well his son is going to be marrying our daughter soon so you’ll have to get used to it,” Hermione pointed out.

Ron sighed, “I don’t know Hermione. I just always feel like he’s doing something behind my back.”

“You’re being paranoid Ron,” Hermione said, trying her best to keep up the lies around him, “And it’s too late now anyway. Rose loves Scorpius, we can’t change her mind about this wedding, and she will resent us forever if we try.”

“I know, and I don’t want that,” Ron admitted, throwing some floo powder into the fire, “I just want my little girl to be happy.”

Hermione smiled and grabbed his hand, “And she is, so let’s just go home and get some sleep. Alright?”

* * *

“You look so beautiful, Rose.”

Rose smiled radiantly at her mother. She sat at her dressing table in her bedroom in their family home. She looked so beautiful in a long floating, figure-hugging white wedding dress. Her long, curly red hair was tied up gracefully with only a few strands left loose. It reminded Hermione of her hairstyle for the Yule Ball, and although she didn’t often see much of herself in Rose, she could today.

Rose had her father’s red hair, and her father’s blue eyes, but at that moment she looked so much like her mother.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married Mum,” Rose said, excitement and nerves all tangled up in her voice.

“I can’t quite believe it either sweetheart,” Hermione admitted as she opened the trinket box in her hands, “Now let’s see, you have your something blue?”

“My garter,” Rose said with a smile.

“Your dress is your something new,” Hermione commented, “So what do we need then? Something borrowed and something old?”

Rose nodded, and so Hermione took two items from her trinket box, “Well, you can keep this as your something old if you like it?”

She held up a beautiful filigree gold locket in the shape of a heart.

“Oh Mum, it”s beautiful,” Rose said as Hermione gently put the locket around her daughter's neck.

“It was a present from your Dad,” Hermione said with a smile, “Very early in our relationship.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rose said again, her fingers touching the locket where it now sat perfectly with the neckline of her dress.

“And this you will have to give back I’m afraid,” Hermione said, she held out her hand, and lying on her palm was a ring. It was a simple golden ring with three diamonds in the centre.

“Wow,” Rose breathed, “I’ve never seen this before.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Hermione said gently.

“It looks like an engagement ring,” Rose frowned as her eyes went to her mothers ring finger, “But your engagement ring from Dad has a ruby on it.”

Hermione nodded, “It was an engagement ring from somebody else,” she said as she sat down on the edge of her daughter”s bed.

“Draco?” Rose asked.

Hermione’s daughter was incredibly perceptive. Not long after Hermione had told her the story of her short love affair with a Slytherin boy after the war, Rose had correctly guessed that this Slytherin had been Draco, her boyfriend’s father.

Hermione nodded, “He gave it to me when we were in Australia, but then, of course, we had to come back. And we knew we couldn’t keep living in the silly dream we had started halfway across the world.”

Rose smiled a little sadly as she slipped the ring onto her right hand. She looked up at her mother and asked, “Do you ever wish you had married him, Mum?”

“Yes, and no,” Hermione said honestly. She had been expecting the question, so it didn’t come as a huge surprise to her.

Rose frowned, “Yes and no?”

Hermione nodded, “Well yes, because Draco and I do have much more in common than your dad and I do. He’s very intelligent, and witty, and as much as I love your dad, you know he’s not the smartest.”

Rose smiled and said, “I love Dad, but I’m glad that I’m more like you, and Hugo is too.”

Hermione smiled softly, “But at the same time, Rosie, if I hadn’t married your dad, then I wouldn’t have you or Hugo.”

“So you wouldn’t change it?” Rose asked.

“No,” Hermione said, “I would never change the way things happened.”

“Then what happened between you two the other night?” Rose asked with a slight smirk; she was very similar to Hermione, which meant she was highly logical and wise.

However, Rose had also been a hat-stall. The sorting hat had struggled when placing her, considering Ravenclaw first then discarding this idea. It had then spent 5 minutes debating whether or not Rose should be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. Rose had never told anyone about that apart from her mother and Scorpius.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked slowly.

“Well Dad said you got in at 4 am,” Rose said slyly, “And Scorp said his dad didn’t get in till about 4 am either.”

“We were working late,” Hermione lied, “I told you, we found a way to reverse the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.”

“I know, and I know you and Scorp’s dad are workaholics, but you never work _that_ late,” Rose pointed out, “And Dad said that your office was a mess when he came to check on you. I know you, Mum, your office is always immaculate so that you can find everything.”

Hermione looked up and caught her daughters amused blue eyes, “Mum, I’ve known for a while that you and Dad weren’t happy. I thought once Hugo had graduated from Hogwarts, you would drop the act and tell us you were getting divorced.”

“Oh, Rose,” Hermione sighed, “This isn’t talk for your wedding day.”

“But it is Mum,” Rose said as she got to her feet, “Did something happen between you and Draco?”

Hermione’s cheeks tinged a little with pink. She and Rose had always been open with each other, but she still felt ashamed as she said, “All it was Rose was that we knew this was it for us.”

Rose frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Once you and Scorpius get married Draco and I will be family,” Hermione explained, “It was our last chance before the wedding, that’s all.”

Rose laughed, “Mum, do you think Scorpius and me care about that? We spent our whole time at school being ridiculed for our friendship, being told by everyone that it would never work. That a Malfoy and a Weasley would never last, we know how it feels to want something but feel like we can’t have it because of what the rest of the world thinks.”

“It’s too complicated, Rosie,” Hermione said gently.

“No, Mum, it’s not like you’re going to be related by blood,” Rose said with a smile, “How is falling in love with your daughter's husbands dad wrong?”

Hermione smiled very slightly, “The fact you got tongue-twisted trying to say that proves why it’s complicated.”

Rose laughed and shook her head, “Mum, Hugo and I are always going to love you and Dad whatever happens. If that means you and Scorp’s dad get together, then I don”t care, and neither does Scorp, trust me. We had expected this ever since you told me that story, and Draco told Scorpius it.”

“Now Rosie, regardless of what happens in the future that is not today’s priority,” Hermione said gently, “Today’s priority is you, my beautiful daughter walking down the aisle to the man that you love.”

Rose grinned and said, “Don’t worry Mum, I’ll make it down the aisle to my Malfoy.”

Hermione smiled and clasped her hand, “Are you ready?”

Rose nodded eagerly, and Hermione kissed her on the cheek, “In that case let’s get your bridesmaids and get to the church,” she said as she opened the door into the adjoining bedroom where Rose”s three bridesmaids were waiting.

Rose’s chief bridesmaid was Lucy, her cousin, who had been in her school year but had been a Hufflepuff.

Her other cousin, Harry and Ginny’s daughter Lily was also a bridesmaid. She was two years younger than Rose and had just left Hogwarts along with Hugo.

The final bridesmaid was also two years younger than Rose and was Alice Longbottom, Neville and Hannah's daughter, who Rose had befriended through her cousin Lily.

The girls all looked beautiful in long pale pink dresses - Lucy and Lily had the classic Weasley red hair, although Lucy’s was more like auburn. Alice had her father's mousy brown hair, but all of the girls looked fantastic regardless.

“Oh, Merlin, Rosie!” Lucy exclaimed when she saw her best friend, “You look amazing! Scorp is going to faint!”

Rose smiled broadly as she hugged the girl, “Thanks, Lucy.”

Lily and Alice, who were just that little bit younger and more excitable were grinning happily.

“Are we ready to head to the church Aunt Hermione?” Lucy asked, linking her arm through Rose’s.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, we are Lucy.”

* * *

“Scorpius, if you don’t breathe you’ll be in St. Mungo’s instead of here with Rose,” Draco said with a fond smile at his son. The church was filling up now, and Scorpius looked paler than usual as he shuffled from foot to foot by the altar.

Scorpius blew out a breath, and a stray bit of blonde hair blew to the side as he did so. With almost white-blonde hair, he looked like his father immensely, but his eyes were much bluer than Draco’s grey ones.

“Were you this nervous on your wedding day Dad?” Scorpius asked.

“No,” Draco chuckled, “But you know your mother and I’s marriage was arranged. It takes some of the excitement away.”

“You’ll be fine Scorp,” Albus Potter, Scorpius’s best friend, and best man, said from his side, “The second you see Rose coming down that aisle all your fears will disappear.”

“Al is right,” Draco smiled, “You’re nervous now, but you’ll be fine the moment you see Rose.”

Scorpius nodded and blew out another breath, “It’s got to be soon now, right?”

“Any minute now,” Draco said honestly, the church was practically full after all, “Now before I go join your Mum, I’ve got something to give you.”

Scorpius frowned as his father pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to him. Scorpius held it in his hand; it was a golden compass and engraved on the front were the words, _“So you can always find your way back to me.”_

“I’ve had that in my pocket for the last 20 years,” Draco said softly, “But I think it’s time I stop holding onto it and pass it onto you.”

“20 years?” Scorpius asked with a frown, “That was before you met Mum.”

Draco nodded, “That’s right.”

“So this was from Hermione?” Scorpius asked, like Rose, he had very quickly figured out who his fathers mysterious Gryffindor girl had been.

Draco nodded again, “Yes, it was. But it’s yours now,” he said as he slipped it into his sons pocket and gripped his shoulder firmly, “And really Scorp, you’ll be fine.”

Scorpius nodded again and smiled this time.

Draco smiled at Albus and said, “Just make sure he remembers to breathe Al.”

Al grinned at Draco, “Will do Mr Malfoy,” he said with a salute that made Draco chuckle. He walked to his seat next to his wife and sat down by her side.

“You gave him the compass from Hermione,” Astoria said.

“Well I have been holding onto it for too long now,” Draco said simply.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact you, and Hermione, both got home at 4 am two nights ago?” Astoria asked, amusement tinged with her voice. These days they were more like friends than husband and wife.

Draco sighed, “In her own words, it meant nothing. And as she said, Rose and Scorpius are getting married; this is about them now.”

Astoria smiled a little sadly and slipped her hand into his, “I’m sorry, Draco, I know how you feel on that subject.”

Draco just shook his head, “No, I don’t want to think about that today. I just want to watch my son marry the woman that he loves.”

Astoria only nodded, and as if his words were a cue, music began to play, and all heads turned to the church's entrance.

Rose walked in on Ron’s arm, and she was smiling radiantly and looking carefree as only the young could. She smiled at her friends, and her massive family as she walked down the aisle towards Scorpius, _her_ Malfoy.

He grinned stupidly when he saw her, and with all eyes focused on Rose, nobody noticed Hermione gently brush her hand against Draco’s as she passed him to take her seat in the other front pew.

Their attention turned to their children, and Ron shed a tear when he lifted Rose”s veil and kissed her cheek, placing her hand into Scorpius’s. He took his seat by Hermione and slipped his hand into hers, out of habit more than any grand gesture of love.

Hermione could already feel her eyes welling up with tears as the ceremony began. It hit home hard for Hermione, and Draco, during the vows.

“Do you, Scorpius Draco Malfoy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Scorpius smiled so lovingly at Rose as he said, “I do.”

Rose grinned a watery smile.

“And do you, Rosalie Hermione Weasley take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do, of course, I do,” Rose said, and a few tears escaped then.

Hermione was a complete mess, and as she glanced across the aisle to Draco and caught his watery, grey eyes, they shared a small smile.

“Then, I declare you bonded for life,” their magic intertwined in the beautiful way that it did during a wizarding wedding, and then, “You may now kiss your bride.”

Scorpius grinned as he grabbed Rose and swooped her down low to kiss her. They all burst out into laughter and cheers, and as Scorpius righted Rose again and she hit him playfully on the arm, Hermione was partly laughing and partly crying because that _could_ have been her and Draco.

It _should_ have been.

* * *

The wedding meal was beautiful, as were the speeches. Both Ron and Scorpius had given a lovely speech, and then Albus in true Potter fashion had entirely embarrassed everyone in the room, especially his parents. Hermione had a feeling he would be getting a smack from his mother for mooning the entire room during it.

The first dance was almost as emotional as the ceremony had been, and as was traditional, the bridal party joined in. Lucy could be seen smacking Albus as he purposefully trod on her feet.

Lily wasn’t exactly happy about dancing with her older brother, James who was one of Scorpius”s groomsmen, he was two years older, and a Gryffindor but they got on well.

Alice was dancing with Louis Weasley, the son of Bill and Fleur who had been in James’s year, but had been a Slytherin so was close to Scorpius, it was through Louis and Albus that Scorpius had become friends with James.

After the bridal party joined in, the parents were to do so too. And it was traditional for the bride’s mother to dance with the groom's father, and vice versa. So Ron took to the floor with Astoria who he got on with great because of a shared interest in Quidditch, the Chudley Cannons and antique broomsticks.

Draco smiled at Hermione as he held his arm out for her, and she accepted it, walking onto the dance-floor with him.

His hand went to her waist smoothly, and he pulled her close to him, perhaps a little closer than was necessary.

“I never thought I would see the day that a Weasley became a Malfoy,” Draco said softly as they danced together.

Ron and Astoria shuffled, but Draco and Hermione danced.

Ron couldn’t dance, and Hermione loved to, so this ease of movement with Draco was fantastic.

“No, neither did I,” Hermione said with a smile, “I saw Scorpius looking at a compass earlier. It looked suspiciously like the one I gave you.”

“It is,” Draco said simply, “I had been holding onto it for too long I think, I thought it deserved a new owner. I happened to notice a very familiar ring on Rose’s right hand.”

“It’s her something borrowed,” Hermione said with a smile, “I couldn’t give it as her something old, I need to keep holding onto it for a little longer.”

Draco frowned ever so slightly, “Is that so?”

Hermione nodded as Draco spun her out and brought her back to him, “Rose and I had an interesting chat actually, this morning when I gave her the ring.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Do elaborate.”

“She told me that she and Scorpius had been wondering how long it would take for something to happen between us,” Hermione whispered. Still, they wouldn’t be heard over the noise of the music anyway.

“She also connected the dots when she and Scorpius told each other that we both got home at 4 am the other night.”

“Yes, well they are scarily perceptive, like us,” Draco said with a small smile.

“What Rose told me was that she knew Ron and I weren’t happy and had been expecting us to announce our divorce once Hugo finished Hogwarts,” Hermione said, still in a hushed tone.

“And that regardless of how weird it may seem to the rest of the world, she and Scorpius didn’t care if anything were to happen, between us.”

Draco smiled ever so slightly as the song began to reach its end, “Does that mean that there is hope for us, Hermione?”

Hermione caught his eye and smiled genuinely, “That is exactly what it means, Draco,” she said softly.

****

**_The End._ **


	11. Say You'll Remember Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is fed up with pretending that things are okay or normal after the final battle. So, she boards the midnight train to Paris with Draco Malfoy, a wanted fugitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the Taylor Swift song, "Say You'll Remember Me."
> 
> I made a companion video for this fic actually, it's over on my youtube channel if anyone is interested (Username: Holly9364)

The war was _supposed_ to bring them together. The victory was _supposed_ to save them. It wasn’t supposed to break them, and it wasn’t supposed to tear them apart.

But it had.

Hermione had known deep down that as much as they pretended, they couldn’t go back to normal.

None of them could, she and Harry couldn’t forgive Ron, not really. They couldn’t let go of the fact he had left them in their darkest hour. They were supposed to stick together, and Ron had left them. As much as they tried to stitch that wound shut, it would eventually rip open again, and Hermione knew that.

She couldn’t go back to normal. She couldn’t go back to school and studying, and her love/hate relationship with Ron.

Harry couldn’t run back into Ginny’s arms and expect everything to be the same, even if he didn’t know that himself yet. She _knew_ when no one else did that pretending was never going to work. Pretending the war had done nothing was foolish, but still, they did it.

She forgave Ron, and as everyone expected, she said yes when he asked her out. But it wasn’t the way it should have been - the way she had imagined it to be.

Ron wasn’t the slightly annoying, but attractively goofy redhead she had fallen in love with at Hogwarts. He was a former soldier riddled with regrets and so bitter about the death of his brother. But he pretended he was fine, he smiled and laughed and put on the façade for everyone.

It came down though, mostly when he and Hermione were alone together, she had seen the walls in his flat, riddled with holes he had punched in them. She knew he drank, but she didn’t know quite how much until she found the bottles under the bed while she cleaned his filthy flat one day a couple of weeks after the final battle.

Something snapped then, and she couldn’t pretend anymore. She knew they couldn’t all hide from their problems; they had to face them. So she had confronted Ron, and she had woken up a few hours later with a severely sore head, she didn’t remember it, but the only conclusion she had come to was that he had lost control of his magic and had thrown her against the wall.

Harry didn’t want to hear anything about it; he was too busy playing pretend families with Ginny and baby Teddy, the poor little orphaned child of Remus and Tonks. He knew Hermione wasn’t making it up, deep down he knew as much as she did how volatile Ron was, but he didn’t want to deal with it.

He wanted to close his eyes and pretend everything was the same. She didn’t blame him - if Harry had to face the fact that every single thing in his life was different now, it would probably drive him mad.

But what was driving Hermione mad was the fact that everyone was pretending and lying. She had to get away from it all, but she didn’t know how to leave this world. She couldn’t go back to the Muggle world, not after all she knew of this one now. But she didn’t know where to go either.

So she was left with one solution really, she was going to get on a train. She had always known there were other wizarding train stations within Kings Cross, but she had never had reason to visit them before.

But now she did have a reason, so here she was sitting on a bench at Platform 2 1/3rd waiting on a midnight train that would take her away from here.

“Odd place to spend a Saturday night, Granger,” a smooth, very familiar voice said.

Hermione wanted to scream. She was trying to run from everything, and someone from the past she was running from had just sat down on the bench next to her. Someone who had stood by and watch her get tortured at that.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Hermione asked calmly.

“The same thing as you, I expect - running,” Draco Malfoy said.

“What makes you think I’m running? Maybe I’m just getting on a train,” Hermione said irritably as she turned to look at the blonde next to her. He had changed in the month since the final battle.

His hair was no longer slicked back but instead shaggy and longer than she remembered. He had the beginnings of stubble on his face too. Hermione thought it suited him far more than his usually clean-shaven look. However, he did look very much like a man on the run.

“Three types of people get the midnight train out of the UK,” Draco said in amusement, “Fugitives, pregnant women running in shame and people trying to escape their lives.”

“Three guesses which one you are,” Hermione muttered as her eyes glimpsed the clock ticking to 11:56 pm.

“I think figuring out which one you are is more interesting,” Draco said smoothly, “Are you trying to escape or are you running from something else?”

“I’m not pregnant, Malfoy,” Hermione said with a sigh.

“No, I didn’t think so. Running from your life then,” Draco said matter of factly, “That’s odd, aren’t you the golden girl?”

“Golden girl,” Hermione scoffed, “That’s a joke. I’m not running from my life. I just want to get away from everyone right now. I’m _sick_ of everyone pretending that the war didn’t happen, I’m sick of everyone pretending things are the same. _Nothing_ is the same.”

“No, it isn’t,” Draco agreed thoughtfully.

_11.58 pm._

“I’m not pretending everything’s the same,” He added, “I know I stood by and watched you get tortured. I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t, but I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t try to help either.”

Hermione frowned as she looked at him properly, “What?”

“I wanted to help you, Granger,” Draco said, “Why do you think I sent my old house-elf to create a distraction so that you could escape?”

Hermione’s brain tried to process this. Harry hadn’t told her what had happened with Dobby; she had just known that he had appeared and had saved the day. She knew he suspected it had something to do with his mirror, and in the end, she had thought it was Aberforth Dumbledore who had sent Dobby.

“Aberforth Dumbledore did that,” Hermione said firmly, she had found her voice once more.

“No, he didn’t. I asked him to say that he had helped you. It was good for him, and it meant that it didn’t get traced to me,” Draco said calmly, “I didn’t fancy getting my insides ripped out by the Dark Lord very much.”

“But…I…what…”

“Well, I’ve never seen you speechless before Granger,” Draco said in amusement as he pushed himself to his feet.

Hermione was still trying to comprehend what he had just told her when a gigantic steam train trundled into the station and came to a halt in front of them.

“Are you running or staying then Granger?” Draco asked as he stood by one of the train doors.

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted.

“Come on,” Draco said with a boyish grin, “I’ll show you the memory, I’ll prove it was me. We can both stop pretending and face what happened in the war.”

The idea was ludicrous but also incredibly appealing.

Hermione froze, apparently incapable of making the decision.

The train sounded its last whistle.

“Come on, Granger, let go and take an adventure with me,” Draco said as he jumped onto the train and held out his hand to her.

Something snapped then, just like it had with Ron earlier. She convinced herself she still had a concussion as she darted towards the train and grabbed Draco’s hand. He smirked as he pulled her onto the train and closed the door seconds before it began to pull out of the station.

“Good choice,” He said as they stood close together in the hallway of the train.

“You’re a wanted fugitive,” Hermione breathed, “And I just got on a train with you.”

“Well they do say the good girls are the worst when they go bad,” Draco said in amusement, “Come with me, I’ll show the best spot to sit on this train.”

His hand was still in hers, and when he began to walk and pull her behind him, she followed blindly. Yep, she had a concussion.

It took Hermione a moment to figure out where he was taking her, but she knew something wasn’t right when she smelled coal.

“Where are we going?” Hermione hissed.

Draco held his finger to his lips and led her towards the main engine pulling the train.

“Up here,” he whispered, pointing to a ladder leading to a closed hatch atop the train.

“What?” Hermione asked in disbelief.

“Don’t you trust me, Granger?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“No, why the hell would I trust you?” Hermione asked in an agitated whisper.

Draco was still smirking as he climbed the ladder and pushed the hatch open. He glanced down at her and grinned, “Are you a Gryffindor or not?” he asked before he disappeared.

Hermione stood there for a moment, trying to figure out if she should follow him. After a minute or two, she groaned in annoyance at herself and climbed the ladder.

She emerged on the roof of the train where Draco grabbed her arm and pushed the hatch down. The train was moving fast, and the wind was crazy up here despite the fact it was June.

With a wave of Draco’s wand, they were encased in a bubble that protected them from the wind, which meant that they could enjoy the summer night's warmth.

“Down here,” Draco said, pulling her down so that she was lying on her stomach next to him on top of the train.

“You are insane,” Hermione said a little breathlessly as she lay in the darkness, “You can’t even see anything from up here.”

“Not yet,” Draco agreed, “But that’s because we’re still in the tunnel.”

“What tunnel?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I didn’t think you knew how most wizarding trains worked,” Draco grinned, “I’ll leave it as a surprise.”

“We’re only up here because you didn’t buy a ticket, aren’t we?” Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, we’re up here because you will get an amazing view in about five minutes,” Draco said, “But I didn’t buy a ticket, that’s also true.”

“Of course you didn’t, how can a wanted fugitive just walk onto a train?” Hermione muttered to herself.

“Hey, you are on the run with that wanted fugitive,” Draco said in amusement.

“I am not,” Hermione said hotly, “And I can always say you kidnapped me if they find us.”

“Which they will be able to investigate and therefore find out that’s a lie and that you came with me willingly,” Draco said matter of factly.

“Well I’ll blame it on my concussion then,” Hermione said, forgetting that Draco didn’t know about said concussion.

He frowned, “What?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said quickly.

Draco was still frowning at her, and then he muttered, “ _Vicissim Obstrepat_.”

Hermione didn’t know what the charm did at first, but she figured it out when his eyes went to the side of her head where she had a large red bump.

She’d had the beginnings of a black eye when she had cast the glamour charm earlier, and she imagined that it looked far worse now too.

“What the fuck Granger?” Draco hissed, “Is this what you’re running from?”

“No, I told you, I just want to get away,” Hermione said, feeling very embarrassed all of a sudden, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Really? Because it looks bad,” Draco said as he touched the bump on her head and she tried not to wince.

“Since when are you a healer?” Hermione asked irritably.

“Since I had to self-heal wounds caused by the cruciatus curse,” Draco said darkly as he mumbled a few charms under his breath.

“Who used the cruciatus curse on you?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Who do you think?”

“Your father?”

“You don’t have a concussion, just a pretty bad knock to the head. So you can’t blame your poor decision to run away with me on a head injury, by the way.”

Hermione smiled at that, “Maybe I do just want to escape,” she admitted.

“Keep your eyes ahead,” Draco said.

Hermione frowned in confusion but did as he said. She didn’t know what the big deal was at first, but then she saw the end of the tunnel lit up by the train’s headlights. They emerged, and at first, she thought that the train was running on water instead of tracks until it began to climb.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “We’re flying?”

Draco nodded, “Over the North Sea to France. Pretty cool, right? Granger?”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I’m terrified of heights?’”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Hermione shook her head, frozen to the spot.

“Well here I am trying to show you something cool,” Draco said, casting a concealment charm around them, so it seemed like they were in a small tent, rather than in the open air, “And it backfires in my face. Most girls would have found that romantic, you know?”

“Malfoy, when have I ever been like most girls?” Hermione asked, breathing a bit easier now.

Draco smiled at her, ‘That’s true. I always liked that about you actually. You were never selfish or vain and shallow like the other girls.”

“Dear Merlin, what is going on with you tonight?” Hermione asked in disbelief, “First you drop the bomb that it was you who saved my life in Malfoy Manor, and now you’re telling me you liked me at the school where you treated me like shit for seven years?”

“Well, I’m in a reflective mood, and what the heck is a bomb?”

Hermione laughed, despite it all, “It’s a Muggle weapon, you drop it, and it explodes. It’s pretty horrible, actually.”

“In that case, I don’t like that analogy,” Draco commented.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I’m serious Malfoy. Are you going to murder me or something? Are you actually a serial killer?”

“Merlin’s balls Granger, what did I do to you to make you think so lowly of me?” Draco asked in disbelief, “A serial killer, really?”

“Well, you’re acting like a different person,” Hermione said with a frown.

“I’m acting like myself, you’ve just never known me,” Draco said in amusement, “Have we ever had a proper conversation before tonight?”

Hermione’s frown deepened as she thought about that for a moment, “…No.”

“Exactly,” Draco said, “I’m not as bad a person as you seem to think I am. I was a bully that much is true, but I don’t believe in everything you think I do. I’m not a pureblood enthusiast, that was my father.’

“So why did you pretend for all those years?”

“Because I was terrified of him,” Draco admitted, “Even when I knew what the Dark Lord did to traitors, I was still more scared of my father. I was sick of pretending too, so I don’t anymore.”

“So this is really you?”

“This is really me.”

“And it was you who sent Dobby?” Hermione asked.

“I swear, it was me,” Draco said, “I’ll show you the memory when we get to France. Where are we jumping off, Calais, Amiens or are we going all the way to Paris?”

“You really want me to go on the run with you?” Hermione asked in disbelief, “We hardly know each other Malfoy.”

“I know a lot about you-”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“I’m serious Granger; I know you love books and reading and history. I also know you hate heights, so I swear I won’t make you go near the Eiffel tower. I bet you love museums, and what if I told you I knew of a giant wizarding library in Paris?”

Hermione smiled; she wanted to throw caution to the wind and run away with him. But she couldn’t, not rationally, “How about we go to Paris together and then part ways?”

“I’ll agree to that if you promise to have dinner with me first,” Draco said, “I know the best Chinese takeaway and the nicest of all the dodgy hotels.”

“You make it sound so appealing,” Hermione joked.

“Well, I _am_ a wanted fugitive. Otherwise, it would be much classier,” Draco said, and Hermione couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“Alright, Paris, dinner and then we go our separate ways,” Hermione said, holding out her hand to him.

Draco took it and shook it, “Deal,” he said, but as their hands dropped, he didn’t let go of hers, and she didn’t make him.

* * *

When the train pulled into Paris, Draco and Hermione jumped off and ran from the station, still hand in hand. Hermione found herself laughing, despite all the laws she was breaking. She had broken a whole lot of rules that year anyway, while on the run with Harry and Ron.

She and Draco didn’t stop running until they were in the back alleys of Paris at which point Hermione subconsciously tightened her grip on his hand. He didn’t seem to mind as they walked slowly, catching their breath from the jog.

“Ah, here’s my favourite takeaway,” Draco said happily, pulling her into a small Chinese takeaway and taking the liberty of guessing what she would like and ordering for her when he found out she’d never had a Chinese before.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a Chinese,” Draco said with a shake of his head as he led her to the ‘nicest of dodgy hotels’ with their dinner in a paper bag.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that made me uncultured,” Hermione said in amusement, “Back home we have fish and chips.”

“Well, so do we, but we also have Chinese, and Italian,” Draco remarked.

“Wizarding takeaways?” Hermione asked.

Draco nodded, “You haven’t explored Diagon Alley thoroughly enough Granger. I’ll need to show you some time; they deliver by floo, you know.”

“Hmm,” Hermione hummed as they walked in the dim streetlight, it was the middle of the night, but neither of them were tired, they were both however starving, and the smell of their dinner wasn’t helping.

“Here we are,” Draco said, as they stood outside a dingy looking hotel with a flashing neon sign.

“This is where you’re staying?” Hermione asked, cocking her head at him.

“Well I don’t have much choice, and I’m trying to lay low so yes,” Draco shrugged as they walked towards the check-in desk, “We’ll have to give fake names.”

Hermione nodded numbly, this all felt incredibly illegal, which was the most foreign concept ever to her.

“Do you have a room?” Draco asked when they reached the desk.

The elderly woman behind it nodded and spoke with a thick French accent, “One left, what are ze names?”

“Heath Whitecliff and Catherine Earnshaw.”

The woman wrote the names down in the book and thrust a key at them. Draco thanked her and took Hermione’s hand, leading her up the stairs to the top floor and room number 16a.

They didn’t talk until they were in the tiny room, and even then not a word was said until Draco had cast security charms and locked the door. Hermione knew she could help, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Aiding a fugitive was definitely against the law, and she really didn’t want time in prison.

“Wuthering Heights, really?” Hermione asked when the charms were complete.

Draco shrugged, “There is a small amount of Muggle literature in the Manor back home. It makes for interesting reading.”

“That’s very interesting,” Hermione remarked as she cast cleaning charms on the room, consisting of a double bed with two bedside tables. There was also an adjoining bathroom with a toilet, sink and a tiny shower.

“That I read Muggle literature?” Draco asked, opening the paper bag and handing Hermione a plastic tub and a fork.

Hermione nodded and took a bite, “This is not the gourmet dinner I imagined Draco Malfoy buying me.”

“You imagined me buying you dinner?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

A blush rose in Hermione’s cheeks, “No…I…that came out wrong. I phrased it badly.”

Draco just grinned, and they made small talk, mostly about Muggle literature as they ate. Draco had bought cheap, terrible wine at the Chinese and when they had finished eating, he opened it, and they passed the bottle back and forth. It was the complete opposite of the way she imagined Draco to be.

If she _had_ ever thought of going on a date with him, she would have expected a fancy restaurant, expensive food, and expensive wine. She would have worn a costly dress, and he would have worn a suit. _If_ she’d ever imagined it, of course.

But here they were, Hermione in jeans and a jumper, and Draco in jeans and a shirt, drinking cheap wine and eating Chinese in a dodgy hotel with false identities.

Despite all of that, it was perfect.

“Well Granger, I must say I’m glad to confirm what I always knew,” Draco said, lying back on the bed after the bottle of wine had been drained.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I always knew you had a thing for me,” Draco said. His trademark cocky smirk was back on his face.

Hermione scoffed, “A thing for you? Please Malfoy, we’re barely even friends.”

“Do you often go to Paris and end up in a dodgy hotel with someone you’re not even friends with then?” Draco grinned.

Hermione swung to hit him playfully, but she didn’t get the chance. Draco caught her arm and pulled her down to lie next to him. She didn’t see any point in moving, but she did narrow her eyes at him.

“No, I don’t, and I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight,” Hermione admitted.

“I do,” Draco said honestly, “You want to escape, and I need to escape, and we’re the only two people in this whole fucking world who aren’t pretending. Fuck Granger, we’re messed up, we’re broken into a million pieces. But we’re honest with each other, and we’re not pretending things are like they were because they aren’t. If they were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I know,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “I know everything’s different. I’m scared of everything these days Malfoy, I jump at the slightest thing.”

“I can’t stand someone pointing a wand at me,” Draco admitted, “I’m terrified they’ll cast the cruciatus curse on me. I can’t…I can’t forget the pain of it.”

“Neither can I,” Hermione said, shutting her eyes tightly, “When it was over, I felt like I would never be able to move again.”

“My father and the dark lord used it on me eight times in one night,” Draco said darkly, “I thought I was paralysed for life. I couldn’t move for hours after.”

Hermione opened her eyes and caught his, “I can’t stand to hide it, Malfoy. I can’t pretend I’m fine anymore.”

“You don’t have to, not with me anyway,” Draco said, “You can be as fucked up as you want.”

“Well, I don’t want to be fucked up at all,” Hermione admitted, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I am.”

“Hey, we’ve both got our scars,” Draco said gently, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Hermione frowned, not entirely sure of the ambiguous nature of that statement, “You first then.”

Draco unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. It was the only way to show her the state of his right arm. Hermione gasped when she saw it, and she had seen some pretty brutal things. It was ripped to pieces; there were hundreds of long thin scars; it looked like he had been attacked by something.

“What did that?”

“I did,” Draco replied calmly, “With that handy ‘Sectumsempra’ curse of Potter’s.”

“Didn’t it hurt?” Hermione asked as he chewed her lip.

“Like hell, and part of me wishes I hadn’t done it but the dark mark…it wasn’t fading and I was terrified that it never would, that part of my punishment would be to bear it forever so I tried to get rid of it,” Draco said darkly.

“And you were left with a hundred more scars,” Hermione whispered.

Draco nodded and caught her eye, “Your turn.”

Hermione sighed; she couldn’t show him the scar without taking her jumper off. The sleeves were too tight; she wouldn’t be able to pull them up as far as her elbow. She could have said no, but the bottle of wine combined with the events of the long day made her throw caution to the wind. She pulled her jumper over her head and discarded it next to her; she didn’t miss Draco’s smirk at the colour of her bra, Gryffindor scarlet red.

“There,” Hermione said, thrusting her right arm out. The word was still clear; the scars hadn’t faded to white yet. They were still red and angry, and her arm often hurt. The healers had said that was because the scar was cursed, it had after all been inflicted by dark magic.

“You aren’t.”

“What?”

“A mudblood,” Draco said, his grey eyes finding hers, “You are a beautiful, talented, kind witch. Don’t ever let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Hermione said.

“I mean it, Granger,” Draco said, reaching out and gripping her hand, “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. If I could go back and take all of the pain for you, take the scar for you, I would.”

Hermione didn’t know what told her that he was telling the truth, but something did. Maybe it was the raw emotion in his voice or the fact he looked close to tears, or perhaps it was his hand gripping hers tightly. Either way, his words' sincerity combined with the cheap wine all added up to one thing.

Their lips crashed together, almost violently. It wasn’t a slow, sloppy kiss, or a drunken kiss like the ones she had shared with Ron on the odd night they had spent together. It was fast, hard, all teeth and biting, and Hermione was fairly sure one of them had drawn blood, but they didn’t care.

Hermione didn’t try and forget or pretend as she moved to straddle Draco and pin him beneath her. She wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t hurt her, because he had, but she had a new way to channel it, and it was far more enjoyable than punching him in the face.

“Fuck Granger,” Draco said breathlessly as they broke for air and pulled the remaining clothes off of the other, “When the good girls go bad they go _really_ bad.”

“Shut up Malfoy,” Hermione muttered, capturing his lips once more.

* * *

They were supposed to go their separate ways. Paris, dinner and then they would part. That was their deal, that was what they had agreed.

It hadn’t happened.

Hermione had to face that fact when she woke up being spooned by Draco in the dingy hotel room with the sunlight streaming through the window.

She sighed, now not only was she on the run with a known fugitive, but she was also sleeping with him.

“Morning Granger,” Draco mumbled, his lips against her neck.

Hermione shivered, and she felt him smile.

“So much for parting ways after dinner.”

“I had a feeling that wouldn’t happen,” Draco admitted as he stretched and let her turn to face him.

“What happened last night Malfoy…I…”

Draco shook his head, “I enjoyed it, Granger, so whatever you were going to say, just don’t say it.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, “But I really do think we should part ways now and-”

“Give me a week,” Draco cut in, “A week in Paris.”

“Okay,’ Hermione agreed, surprising both herself and Draco.

He grinned and leant in to kiss her, “I think we should start this week by staying in bed just a _little_ longer. The French get up so late anyway.”

“Uh-huh,” Hermione said with the hint of a smile as she let him kiss her once more.

* * *

She gave him a week in Paris.

They did a lot that week, they visited every art gallery and museum that Draco could think of. They spent a whole day in the biggest wizarding library in Europe.

Draco managed to drag Hermione to the top of the Eiffel tower, and her price was dinner, done properly. So he broke his cover and took her to a nice restaurant, and she wore a pretty dress, and it was like a proper date.

But they left after the main course because it wasn’t anywhere near as good as the Chinese with the cheap wine in the hotel room. They went for long walks; they sat on top of the hotel roof and watched the sunset. And they spent every night, and most of the morning in bed together. It was the perfect week, and the most terrible thing had happened during it.

As much as she told herself not to, she had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy.

She knew from the beginning that this, whatever it was, would never last. Even if he weren’t on the run, they wouldn’t stand a chance. They were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger for crying out loud; they had been kidding themselves all week that this could be anything. But it had been perfect, so Hermione found she didn’t mind much.

When the week was coming to its end, Hermione finally spoke to Draco about the elephant in the room.

It was their last night together, and then they would part ways as agreed. They were lying in bed, with Hermione’s head on Draco’s chest when she said, “Why are you on the run?”

“Because I’m a criminal.”

“I know, but what are they charging with you if they catch you?” Hermione asked gently.

“War crimes,” Draco replied honestly.

“What war crimes, Draco?” Hermione asked, craning her head to look up at him.

“Murder, torture, and blackmail.”

“Are they all true?” Hermione asked, her blood running cold as she feared the answer.

“Yes, Hermione,” Draco said, shutting his eyes, “They are all true.”

Hermione didn’t say anything at first; she didn’t even move her head from his chest. She just sighed, “So it’s true then, you have to kill a Muggle to become a Death Eater.”

“Yes.”

“And you did that.”

“Yes.”

“Do you regret it?” Hermione asked.

“Every day of my life,” Draco admitted, “I picked a bad one as if it would help morally. But it didn’t.”

“What do you mean a ‘bad’ one?” Hermione asked with a frown.

“A Muggle who had been convicted of some pretty horrible crimes, like murder and rape,” Draco said, “I thought if I killed a bad Muggle, then it made me a vigilante, but it didn’t change the fact that it made me a murderer.”

Hermione was silent, unsure how to respond to that and unsure how she felt about that moral quandary.

They were silent for a good while, and Draco thought Hermione had fallen asleep when she asked, “What happens if they catch you?”

“Azkaban, for life,” Draco replied.

Hermione sighed, “Then go tonight, get a head start. I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I want to spend tonight with you,” Draco said, not moving an inch.

“Please, Draco,” Hermione said, a little desperately, “People recognised you at that restaurant today. They’ll find you soon, leave tonight.”

Draco looked in her eye and nodded when he saw the sincerity there. He got up and dressed silently then knelt on the edge of the bed, “I’ll never forget this week Hermione,” he promised, kissing her lightly on the lips.

“Neither will I, now go before the Aurors show up,” Hermione said softly.

Draco nodded, slinging his bag over his back and leaving, shutting the door with a snap behind him. The whole place felt cold and lonely suddenly with him gone, and Hermione decided to leave.

She still had enough time to make the midnight train if she got her things together, so she packed and left, weaving through the alleys of Paris with ease after the week she had spent there. She got to the station, bought her ticket and boarded the train back to the UK.

It wasn’t until she sat down in a compartment and lay her head against the window as the train left Paris that she allowed herself to cry.

The week seemed so perfect that she wondered for a moment if it had even been real or if this was just an elaborate dream. But she knew it wasn’t; it had happened, as surreal and fantastic as it had been. Hermione could only close her eyes and think of that night with the Chinese and the cheap wine as the train sped her miles and miles away from Draco.

Nothing had changed when Hermione got back home.

Everyone was still pretending. Ron had disappeared not long after Hermione, and from the cryptic answers his family gave them, Hermione and Harry could only make the assumption he was in the rehabilitation ward in St. Mungos.

Nobody had asked where she had been that week, nobody apart from Harry who she had lied to. Well, partially anyway, she had told him she went to Paris because she needed to get away. She just didn’t tell him who she went to Paris with.

Hermione tried to move on, she took a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and she tried to forget about Draco and throw herself into her work. It worked for a while.

But then she had woken up on a cold September morning; the frost was beginning to settle in now that the warmth of the summer had evaporated. She went about her usual business in her small flat, and the shock came when she sat down to read her morning newspaper.

Emblazoned on the front page were pictures of Draco getting arrested, and of him in a striped Azkaban jumpsuit. Her heart faltered as she skimmed the article. He had been detained in Russia after a local tip-off, he was currently in holding in the lower cells of the Ministry until his trial which would be tomorrow.

Hermione knew that if it went to trial, he would be convicted, and his life in Azkaban prediction would become a reality. She couldn’t let that happen; she couldn’t watch him rot in Azkaban. He had done bad things, but he wasn’t a bad person. If the world knew that maybe he would get a more lenient sentence.

Hermione was desperate, and she only knew of one person who could help, so she found herself at that person’s front door.

“Hermione! What are you doing here so early?” Ginny asked as she answered the door with Teddy in her arms and a bottle in her hand.

“Is Harry here? I really have to talk to him,” Hermione said urgently.

Ginny frowned, “Yeah, he’s in the kitchen. Is everything okay?”

“No,” Hermione said as she walked through the house into the kitchen where Harry was making coffee.

“Hermione!”

“Harry, have you seen the paper?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been expecting it for a while. He couldn’t evade the Aurors forever,” Harry said casually as he glanced at the paper.

“You have to put in a good word for him Harry; you have to vouch for him. He doesn’t deserve life in Azkaban, and you must know that,” Hermione said frantically.

Harry frowned, “Hermione, what the hell? Since when did you care so much about Malfoy?”

“When I went to Paris that week, Harry, I went with him,” Hermione admitted.

“With Malfoy?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“It wasn’t planned, it just sort of…happened. But the point is he’s a good person, well he’s a little screwed up from the war but then aren’t we all?” Hermione rambled, “But they’re going to give him life, Harry, please don’t let that happen.”

“Merlin Hermione, what was this? A fling? Because it sounds like you care about him,” Harry said, now pacing the kitchen in shock.

“I started to fall in love with him,” Hermione said honestly, “But he was on the run, and I had to come back…it was never going to last.”

“Harry, is there anything you _can_ do?” Ginny’s voice asked from the doorway.

“I don’t know, I’m only a junior Auror,” Harry admitted.

“But you must have some sway. You’re the chosen one, the bloody saviour of our world and Draco’s charges are war crimes.”

“Are they true, Hermione, the charges?” Harry asked calmly.

Hermione nodded, “You have to murder a Muggle to become a Death Eater. He killed a convicted murder and rapist; he thought he would be able to deal with the regret that way. But he couldn’t.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered, “Murder? I don’t know how much sway I have, but I know it’s not _that_ much.”

“Harry, can you do anything?” Hermione asked desperately.

“I’ll try,” Harry promised, “But I can’t guarantee anything, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded, gripping Harry in a tight hug, “That’s enough. Thank you, Harry.”

Harry nodded, “You’re welcome, but if this comes off well, I want a full bloody explanation.”

Hermione smiled weakly and nodded, “I promise you’ll have one.”

* * *

That day dragged on, as did the day after that. Hermione was waiting for Harry to appear on her doorstep with the news of the trial. She had barely slept, and she hadn’t eaten. She was pacing the living room when Harry knocked on the door and then let himself in.

He looked tired, and the moment he caught Hermione’s eye, she knew the news was bad.

“H…Harry?”

Harry shook his head, “They transport him to Azkaban tonight.”

“For life?” Hermione asked, her voice fading away.

“No,” Harry sighed, “I told you I had some sway, but not enough to make a huge difference. They charged him with a year for blackmail, two for torture, and reduced the charge of murder to manslaughter which he has to serve five years for. That’s eight years in prison, Hermione.”

“I know Harry, I can count,” Hermione snapped.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“No, I’m sorry. You helped, you did,” Hermione promised, “It’s just…”

“It’s still not a great outcome,” Harry finished for her, sitting down heavily on her sofa.

“Now, this explanation that you owe me. Since I just shaved a lot of time off of my arch-enemies prison sentence, I think now is the time to hear it.”

Hermione nodded and sat down next to him, ready to tell him the entire story.

* * *

Draco wasn’t allowed visitors until he had been in Azkaban for three months. Hermione found herself to be somewhere between nervous and terrified as she stepped off of the boat at the foot of the prison. It wasn’t the same, there were no dementors and visitors were now allowed, but it was still a brutal prison on an island in the middle of nowhere at the end of the day.

Hermione had to go through security and hand over all of her possessions before being shown into a small room with five tables, each with a chair on either side. She spotted Draco right away, now wearing his blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, her stomach lurched at the familiarity of it. He looked far too much like his father; if she hadn’t been forced to leave her wand, she would have cut it off. His stubble had transformed into the beginnings of a beard now, and his face lit up when he saw her enter the room.

“Hey,” Hermione said softly as she sat down across from him.

“Hey,” Draco echoed, “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“I wasn’t going to come,” Hermione admitted, “But I couldn’t leave it where it was.”

Draco nodded, “I’m glad you came. I hear I have you to thank, apparently Potter was the one who got my sentence reduced, and I’m guessing that had a lot to do with you.”

“I’m ashamed to say I begged him to vouch for you,” Hermione sighed, “And then had to tell him the full story, about Paris.”

“Wonderful,” Draco said sarcastically, “But thank you. Eight years is an improvement on life.”

“It must seem like a long time right now,” Hermione said.

“It does,” Draco said with a nod, “So don’t feel you have to wait for me or anything stupid like that. Paris was-”

“Paris was perfect,” Hermione said, “Let’s leave it at that.”

“Good idea,” Draco said, looking quite lost, “I expect you’ll be married, probably with a troop of kids by the time I get out of here anyway.”

“Maybe,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “But kids don’t come into my life plan until I’m 30 and that’s over ten years away. I think I’ll just focus on my career for the next eight years. You never know, I might be head of the DMLE by the time you get out of here.”

Draco smiled slightly, “So there is some hope for us yet then.”

“Yes,” Hermione said gently, taking his hand in her own.

“Who knows, maybe we can go back to Paris one day and stay in that sleazy hotel,” Draco said softly.

“We could even drink cheap wine and eat Chinese,” Hermione smiled.

Draco’s eyes sparkled a little at that, and Hermione was glad to see some life in them again, “Will you visit me?”

Hermione shook her head, “No, I think it’s best we leave it here,” she said as she got to her feet.

The light faded from his eyes, and it broke her heart, but she knew it wasn’t fair to drag this out.

“I understand,” Draco said.

“I’m glad,” Hermione said softly, “But Draco, when you get out of here, meet me in Paris?”

Draco’s smiled returned, “Okay,” he said.

Hermione smiled back at him, “Goodbye, for now, Draco Malfoy.”

“Goodbye, for now, Hermione Granger,” Draco echoed.

And Hermione walked out of the prison and boarded the boat. She was once more, leaving Draco miles and miles behind her.

* * *

Hermione had seen in the papers that Draco had been released from Azkaban, and she had gotten away from work as fast as she could.

It had been two days since his release when she walked into the dodgy looking hotel in the back alleys of Paris with its neon sign. She smiled fondly at it and walked up to the desk where a young man was sitting.

“Is there a man booked in here as Heath Whitecliff?” Hermione asked nervously.

He glanced at his books and nodded, “Are you the Catherine Earnshaw he requested a spare key for?”

Hermione nodded, and the man handed her a key, telling her to go on up.

She couldn’t believe it when she read the number on the key fob, 16a - just like the last time. She smiled slightly as she took a deep breath and let herself into the room.

She saw him straight away. He was standing by the window watching the sunset behind the Eiffel Tower.

“I brought Chinese,” Hermione said, and Draco spun around in shock.

She smiled, “There’s even some cheap wine in there. Can you believe they’re still open?”

Draco smiled at the normalcy of it all, he looked much the same - his hair was short again, his stubble back, but his beard gone.

He was older, thinner, and he had more lines on his face.

She hadn’t changed much either; her hair was less bushy; she had grown into a woman a little more.

“You look good.”

“So do you.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too Draco,” Hermione said, shutting the door behind her and sitting down on the bed.

“So, are you married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“Once, but not anymore.”

“Who to?’”

“Terry Boot.”

“Why didn’t you marry him?”

“We were talking about wedding ideas, and he wanted to get married in Paris,” Hermione admitted, “I said no, Paris is _our_ city. I’d never come back here with another man. He didn’t take well to the news that I had spent a week here on the run with a man who was then in jail.”

“Ravenclaws,” Draco scoffed, “Such goody-goodies.”

Hermione smiled fondly, “I had a feeling you might say that.”

“Any kids?”

“One,” Hermione replied.

Draco looked up in surprise, “Yeah? Boy or girl.”

“Girl,” Hermione answered.

“What’s she called?” Draco asked. His eyes on Hermione’s.

“Kaida,” Hermione replied

“Kaida,” Draco said slowly, “That’s a Japanese name. Is her father from Japan?”

Hermione shook her head. “I chose the name based on its meaning, not its origin.”

Draco frowned slightly, “What age is she?”

“She’s seven,” Hermione replied, “Eight in March.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “So she was conceived in June.”

Hermione nodded, a small smile coming to her lips.

“Did you know? When you visited me in September?” Draco asked, his eyes searching hers.

Hermione nodded again, her eyes not leaving his, “I thought it would be better for all of us if that remained unknown until you got out. You would have driven yourself mad with regrets about what you were missing otherwise.”

Draco wanted to be angry, but he knew that she was right.

“I have a daughter?” Draco breathed, “ _We_ have a daughter?”

Hermione held out a photograph, and Draco took it with shaking hands.

The girl in the photograph had a birthday hat on and was blowing out candles on a cake. On either side of her were Hermione and Harry, but Draco barely noticed that – he was too focused on the little girl, on _his_ little girl. She had blonde hair, as platinum as his, but as curly and untamed as her mothers and her eyes – those warm, kind, honey brown eyes, they were Hermione’s.

Draco couldn’t breathe as he stared at the photograph.

“Does she…does she know…about me?”

“She knows all about you,” Hermione promised, her voice soft and quiet, “I told her bedtime stories about you, every night.”

Draco swallowed and looked up, his gratitude shining in his eyes.

Hermione smiled back, and they came crashing together – their lips connecting in the same hotel room that they had all of those years ago.

Despite it all, despite everything, it all felt okay again.

As wrong as it was and as much as logic dictated it would never work they were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, they were in Paris, and after all of this time apart they were still in love with each other.

They had denied that for too long, they had been pretending, and neither of them wanted to pretend anymore.

**The End.**


	12. We Could Have Had it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione reminisce on the platform of 9 3/4 one December's afternoon.

When Hermione Weasley rushed through the wall onto platform 9 ¾, she was just in time to see the scarlet red steam train pull up. She and her husband were both working, and one of them had needed to take the afternoon off to pick up the children.

Ron, not surprisingly, had nominated Hermione for the job. When Hermione stopped on the platform, she was breathing heavily and was glad for the moment she had before the doors opened to catch her breath.

Draco Malfoy had watched the woman hurrying towards the platform with a smile; she worked herself off of her feet; she hadn’t changed at all.

Draco worked on the same floor as her in the ministry. He knew how busy she was and how successful too. She came to a halt next to him but was in such a flurry that she hadn’t noticed and before Draco could so much as say ‘hello’ the train doors opened and the platform was filled with excited children.

After five minutes the worst of the crowds had cleared, and Draco was surprised to see that Hermione was one of the few still waiting on the platform, she glanced around; looking for her daughter, and it was then that she saw the man standing next to her.

“Hermione,” Draco greeted politely with a smile.

Hermione smiled back, “Oh, hello Draco,” she said.

It was strange how at ease they were with each other now.

Before either of them could say anymore; their children came off the train, together.

Rose and Scorpius were in the same year at school, both Ravenclaws, and both parents knew that the two children were friends, but then again, they weren’t children anymore. They had started their 6th year in September.

Rose and Scorpius were holding hands as they stepped off the train, surprised to see their parents standing together.

They glanced at each parent; Rose was probably glad that her mother had come to pick her up and not her father.

“Hey, Mum,” Rose said shyly, “There was a development like I told you I hoped there would be.”

Hermione smiled, “I’m glad, sweetheart. Hello Scorpius, I’m Hermione.” She said, shaking the boy's hand and getting so many flashbacks to her 6th year of school - Scorpius was a carbon copy of Draco at that age.

“I’ve heard lots about you from Dad.” Scorpius said politely as he shook her hand and smiled at his father, “You’ve met Rose, Dad.” He said.

Draco nodded, also smiling, “I have, and I’m very happy for you, no matter what your mother says, she’s old fashioned.”

Hermione seemed surprised by what the Slytherin had said, but she didn’t let it show too much.

“Run along to the car Scorpius; I’ll meet you there,” Draco said, and Scorpius nodded.

“Yes, you can go with him Rose,” Hermione said as her daughter opened her mouth to ask.

Rose smiled and thanked her mother, then the two children disappeared through the barrier and Draco, and Hermione were surprised to find themselves alone on the empty platform.

“It was going to happen sooner or later,” Hermione said to break the silence.

Draco nodded, “I agree, although I can’t help feeling jealous when I see them together.”

Hermione frowned, “Why?” She asked.

“When I look at them, I see what we could have been,” Draco said, surprising Hermione.

“Should have been,” She added, surprising him more.

“I should have learned from Severus,” Draco began, “That calling the girl you like a mudblood isn’t the best way to get her to like you.”

Hermione chuckled, “Yes, not your most charming moment,” she agreed.

“I won’t stop him from being happy,” Draco said as they walked up the platform together, “They are what we would have been if our houses and our families hadn’t torn us apart. They are what we might have been if we hadn’t been born into a war.”

He sounded very wise, and Hermione couldn’t help but think that every word rang true.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Hermione asked when the pair reached the barrier, “When I’ve been married to Ron for so long?”

Draco only smiled and shrugged, “It’s not like we have regular conversations,” he said, “And what does it matter? It’s in the past now.”

Hermione nodded, still confused by the conversation, “Yes, that it is,” she agreed.

Draco smiled at her again, “Have a good Christmas break; I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now.” He said as he disappeared through the barrier, leaving an extremely confused Hermione standing on the empty platform as the lights started to go out.

She could see Draco’s point; Rose and Scorpius were what they should have been if only they’d had the chance.

**The End.**


	13. The Weird and Wonderful Family of Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter reflects as he watches his weird and wonderful family one Christmas day...

It was Christmas day, and the atmosphere in number 12 Grimmauld Place was the same as it had been every year before on this day - full of excitement, happiness and anticipation.

Harry was observing the scene in the large living room from the hatch in the kitchen wall. It was the same five adults as it had been every year for the past ten years, the five people he loved and considered his best and most loyal friends. Among the five adults were various children, all of whom he had known since they were babies and loved as if they were his own children.

It had been this way for as long as he could remember, they were like one big family.

He smiled as he watched his wife talking with his only daughter, Lily Luna Potter, named after her grandmother. She looked just like Ginny; she had long red hair and shockingly green eyes that everyone always reminded her were, “just like her fathers.”

Lily was the youngest of his children and had learned to be tough with three older brothers who lived up to their names; James, Sirius and Remus were mischievous but charming boys, and although Harry missed his two eldest sons he was glad the twins were now in their first year at Hogwarts.

Harry had already received four letters from Minerva about James and Sirius’s antics at the school, and they had only been there for three months. Remus was two years younger than the twins and got on well with his sister whilst they were at Hogwarts, however now that the twins had returned for the Christmas holidays the three of them were running riot again.

Harry grinned when he saw the three boys in question sneak up behind Ron and place a large plastic spider beside his hand on the table while he was immersed in conversation with his eldest son Xavier.

Hermione noticed what the boys were up to and pointed her wand at the toy, she whispered a charm, and it came to life then slowly began to crawl up onto Ron’s hand.

It took a moment for Ron to feel the touch on his hand and when he turned away from his son, he saw the giant spider and let out a high-pitched girlish scream, which caused everyone else in the room to burst out laughing.

Xavier grinned and high-fived the twins, he too was in his first year at Hogwarts and being best friends with the twins attracted a lot of trouble. Harry watched as his three sons and Xavier moved away from the others to sit by the fire with their heads together, planning their next prank no doubt.

He let out a chuckle and focused his attention once more on Ginny. She was talking to Hermione now whilst Lily sat on the floor in front of the sofa playing with Hermione’s youngest daughter Maia, they were the same age and the two girls got on quite well.

Both girls were six years old and talked about Hogwarts constantly. Harry found it strange that at six years old the girls couldn’t wait to be eleven and go to the wonderful school they had only ever heard stories about.

He supposed it was for the same reason as Ginny, who had longed to be at Hogwarts with all her brothers - curiosity. They wanted to see the magical school that they only knew about from James, Sirius, Xavier and Hermione’s eldest daughters Cassiopeia and Carina’s tales of all the secrets it held and the classes and Quidditch and the Great Hall with its magic roof.

Harry found himself lost in thought as he watched his daughter and the girl he thought of as a niece playing together.

Maia looked a lot like Hermione, she had the same big brown eyes and long curly hair, but it wasn’t brown like Hermione’s hair, it was blonde.

Harry wondered if there was anything Hermione and Ginny couldn’t do at the same time, the two best friends had found out they were pregnant with twins at the same time which for Harry had been weird enough.

So naturally, when both sets of twins had been born on the same day only hours apart, he was even more shocked.

The only difference was that Harry and Ginny had two boys, which was expected in the Weasley line, and Hermione had given birth to two blonde-haired girls.

They had been adorable, which was a strange word to use considering who their father was, but luckily they looked like Hermione.

Harry found his gaze moving away from his wife and best friend to look over at his other best friend, Ron.

Ron was trying to explain something to his wife, Luna, but she was standing her ground by the looks of it. Harry was sure Ron was still trying to convince her that Father Christmas was just a muggle myth and that he wasn’t a wizard in hiding who liked to steal children. They had the same argument every Christmas, and every year it made Harry chuckle.

Ron seemed to give up on the matter as he glanced over to Xavier and his friends suspiciously, he too was probably wondering what they were up too.

Having Weasley blood in the family had done the same for Ron and Luna as it had for Harry and Ginny, given them only boys to begin with. Xavier was the eldest, but not a twin. Thank goodness for that, three sets of twins the same age would have been madness when they all got together; it was bad enough with two.

Ron hadn’t been sure if he wanted more than one child, but after Xavier was born he realised he wanted a large family like the one he had grown up in and Luna being an only child wanted the same thing. As such, three years later Xander Weasley had been born; Ron wanted to call him Harold, but Luna had insisted on unusual, unique names and Ron knew he would lose the fight so they compromised with Alexander, shortened to Xander all of the time.

It had been odd when the two of them had married, but Ron had learned to accept Luna’s strange ways and even loved her for them, some of her theories could give him a good laugh.

Harry grinned when he saw Xander tentatively approach Cassiopeia; he knew Ron’s youngest son had a bit of a crush on the older girl.

Cassiopeia broke away from her sister who rolled her eyes and stalked off to join the “New Marauders” as they liked to call themselves.

Ron’s two daughters were the youngest addition to the group and it had been a miracle for them to be blessed with yet another set of twins, luckily they weren’t at an age to cause mischief yet. Willow and Wren Weasley were only three years old and were the image of sweetness, everyone cherished and adored them, and Harry was sure the girls would use this to their advantage when they got old enough to realise it.

Harry looked around the room once more and realised how much of a routine it had become; The New Marauders were scheming by the fire with Carina rolling her eyes and saying in a sing-song voice at their more adventurous plans, “It won’t work.”

The boys were glad to have her as an addition to the group; she was “the brains behind the group” so they said. Naturally, the four boys were Gryffindors; they were so much like their fathers that it was expected.

Carina was bright and brilliant and everyone had expected her to go into Ravenclaw, but she was a Gryffindor like the others.

Although Carina and Cassiopeia _looked_ alike, they couldn’t be more different. Carina was smart, proud, confident and mischievous; Cassiopeia was also brilliant, but cunning and sneaky. The way it had turned out the sisters got on remarkably well which was odd considering Cassiopeia was in Slytherin.

Ever since Voldemort’s defeat Slytherin house had changed, the views were different, and although there was still some tension, most Gryffindors and Slytherins managed to get on quite well.

Hermione was proof that anything could happen considering that her husband was a Slytherin and an ex-Death Eater. Yet, now here he sat in Harry’s living room with Harry’s family, and he looked about as at home with them as Harry himself was.

Draco Malfoy was lucky to be alive, and when Hermione had saved him from Voldemort himself, he dropped his prejudice views. It took a while, but eventually, he learned to be friends with the Gryffindors and a year after Voldemort’s defeat, he had fallen in love with Hermione much to everyone’s surprise.

Lucius objected, but he was living out the remainder of his life in Azkaban so what could he do to anyone? Narcissa welcomed Hermione into the family with open arms, happy that Draco had finally found someone to love.

So there it was, proof that love could change anything and everything.

Who would have thought all those years ago when Draco and Harry had first met that on Christmas Day Draco Malfoy would be sitting in Harry Potters living room with Lily Potter on his lap gazing at him in amazement as he told her stories about Hogwarts.

Harry found his gaze wandering around the room again, back to Ron and Luna who were once again deep in conversation; from the agitated look on Ron’s face, he could tell that Ron was still trying to tell Luna her theories on Muggle Christmas traditions were wrong.

Harry laughed as Ron shook his head and put it into his hands, he was probably trying to convince Luna that House Elves and Elves in muggle stories were very different things and that an evil wizard who claimed to be Father Christmas wasn’t torturing them to make goods that would lure innocent children into his den.

Harry couldn’t help but admire Luna for her creativity on that theory; it was one of the slightly odder ones he had to admit.

Hermione was now talking to Draco, and they were eying the New Marauders with suspicion.

Harry looked around the room to see where Ginny had disappeared too and saw her talking to Xander and Cassiopeia, she caught his eye and smiled at him, he smiled back quickly before once again adverting his gaze to the New Marauders and Carina whose scheme had been planned since they were now parting ways.

Harry was about to enter the living room to find out what the kids were up to when a voice made him turn around.

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking around the room funny for about 20 minutes now,” Draco said, giving Harry a slightly worried look.

Harry shrugged, “I overthink at Christmas time. I just realised how weird our family is.”

Draco chuckled, “Well considering that 15 years ago today I lived to insult you, Ron, Hermione and Ginny and now I’m in your house with your kids who I consider as nephews and nieces I’d have to agree with you on that one mate.”

Harry laughed, “When you put it that way it seems even weirder. Who would have thought my arch-enemy would end up being one of my best mates.”

Draco grinned, “One of the many mysteries of the world, anyway Hermione sent me through to get you, she thinks the mini Marauders are up to something, and it’s usually you who can guess what before they do it.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “They’re so predictable, they use the same pranks I did when I was at school.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “I know, most of those pranks, if not all of them, were directed at me.”

Harry shrugged, “You were an arse back then Draco, you know you deserved it.”

Draco laughed, “True.”

And with that, Harry followed Draco into the living room, still amazed that his family was so strange, but perfect all the same.

Unfortunately, he entered at the wrong moment because with a bang, the room was immersed into darkness and the distinctive sound of a group of children snickering was heard from the corner of the room.

With an air of Molly Weasley about her, Ginny sighed in exasperation, “James! Sirius! Remus! What _have_ you done this time?!”

Harry grinned into the darkness, he couldn’t see her, but he knew she had her hands on her hips.

However, the children did not reply, but the gathering of people in the living room heard them thud their way up the stairs snickering the whole time.

The adults stood in silence for a moment before Draco rolled his eyes, “Jeez Hermione, aren’t you the brightest witch of your age?”

A cross voice came from across the room, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Draco spoke, Hermione could hear the smirk in his voice, “Well, what are we all standing in the bloody dark for?”

“Oh,” Said Hermione realising that no one had bothered to relight the candles, “Lumos,” she muttered and with a small flick of her wand the candles all roared to life again lighting the room up.

Lily and Maia looked confused as the room became visible again, whereas Cassiopeia and Xander only raised their eyebrows at each other.

Harry glanced at Ginny; sure enough, she was standing with her hands on her hips and an exasperated expression on her face that mirrored that of Molly Weasley when Fred and George had pulled one of their pranks.

He tried to hide his smile at the resemblance but failed miserably. With a frown, he wondered why Willow and Wren had not cried when the lights went out, but a glance at the sofa told him they were both exhausted from opening presents and eating and had fallen asleep side by side on the couch.

Draco made his way over to Hermione and sat down beside her, “Sorry love, I was only kidding,” he said half-heartedly as he gave her a charming smile that she could not resist, reluctantly she smiled too.

Ron rolled his eyes at Luna, who only smiled in return, “Ronald, love is blind; you cannot see it,” she said making him raise his eyebrows at Harry who shrugged and smiled fondly at the couple.

Harry made his way over to Ginny and kissed her on the forehead, “Don’t give them a hard time Gin, they’re just playing; it is Christmas after all.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and when she lowered her arms from her hips, Harry took it as an opportunity to wrap his arms around her, “You’re only saying that because you're proud that they're like you.”

Harry grinned cheekily, “Now Ginny, what on Earth gave you _that_ idea?”

Ginny only rolled her eyes at her husband, and Hermione chimed in, “Isn’t it so irritating when children are too much like their fathers?”

“Hey!” Draco said, feigning a hurt expression as Hermione chuckled, “You’re just annoyed because she’s a Slytherin.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes, “For what feels like the hundredth time Draco I think it worked out quite well; a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, no arguments so I thought, but this is _you_ we are talking about. You live to argue!”

Draco only grinned at the accusation, “Why, thank you, Hermione!” He exclaimed.

“It wasn’t a compliment _Malfoy_ ,” She retorted playfully.

Draco laughed, “You can't use my name as an insult anymore, considering you are a Malfoy now and all.”

Hermione sighed, “Damn” she muttered, cursing him under her breath.

Draco winked at Harry who laughed in response.

Hermione groaned, “Aw come on, guys! My Gryffindors are siding with _him_! A _Slytherin_.”

Draco only laughed, “You have been over-ruled, Hermione.”

Harry grinned around the room, “Well, I think we should have a toast.”

The group of friends all raised their glasses and looked pointedly at Harry since the speech had been his idea.

“To our weird and wonderful family!”

He announced with a grin and the others laughed.

“CHEERS!”

**THE END!**


End file.
